


Knowing

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: Project Runway AU [2]
Category: Mirrors (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fashion & Couture, M/M, Modeling, Porn, Romantic Angst, Sexual Tension, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:05:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The competition finale of TV's hottest realty show, "Designer Showdown" is approaching, and with it the chance for fame and riches for both finalist Daniel Schreber and his team of models. But as they work to ready Daniel's final collection, Larry finds himself bonding with the designer's handsome older brother. Handsome, straight, and taken, which makes continuing to spend time with Ben the worst decision he's ever made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time I saw Ben Carson I just about creamed myself. Luckily I was on camera for Project Runway and managed to restrain myself apart from a few dirty remarks for my friend John's ears only. But it still didn't change the fact that he was quite possibly the most gorgeous, fuckable man I'd ever seen.

And I'd fucked a lot of men.

Despite the requests of my libido, I set aside any impulse to try and pick the man up. He was straight, I'd quickly found out. And engaged. So even when I worked again with his brother Daniel during the competition I resisted the urge to ask more, trying to completely put Ben out of my mind. I never expected that we'd make it to the top three together, that I'd end up spending weeks on end in Daniel's small house-turned-workshop in Queens as he prepared for our final challenge and biggest show during fashion week. A bare week into it I began to feel very much like a third wheel with John there as well - the two of them crazy, enviably in love - and so I started to hide myself away in Daniel's den, indulging in a passion I normally, guiltily tried not to admit to.

"Come on, Garret, get the puck in the fucking net!" I flopped back onto the couch with a groan as the whistle blew, the TV going to a recap of the save as players skated on and off the ice.

"He'll shape up by the time the playoffs start. Garret's always lazy at exhibition games."

I started at the voice behind me, turning to see Daniel's brother standing in the doorway to the den. Ben, in uniform, in the doorway.

Oh god.

Thankfully I managed to catch myself before I started drooling. I grinned. "Yeah, I guess that's true. You a Rangers fan too?"

"Since I was a kid. Daniel never really got into it, he was too young before our mother took him overseas. But Dad and I always went to games. Even after we moved to Philly he'd always spring for tickets whenever the Rangers played in town." He paused, glancing to the screen and then back to me. "Mind if I join you?"

You can do anything you want to me, I thought, and prudently held my tongue. "Please. Becker's who the hell knows where and I'm so sick of feeling like the gooseberry around here."

Ben chuckled, lounging back on the other side of the couch, and I tried to ignore the way the dark blue fabric of his uniform pants pulled across well-muscled thighs as he moved. "I imagine they get pretty sappy?"

"God, I don't even think John's been home at all these past few days except to grab new clothes and feed his cat. Daniel keeps telling him just to bring her with him."

Ben gave a soft snort. "Well, at least they're happy."

"It's sweet," I agreed, getting distracted by the hockey game. "Come on come on come on - Yeah! Take that!"

Ben joined in my cheers, and for a time the conversation consisted only of comments on the game, and bitching about the game during commercial breaks. Despite it only being an exhibition game, it still felt awesome when the Rangers slid a tie-breaking goal past the goalie in the last thirty seconds of the third period. Even better to have someone beside me who was as into it as I was, cheering with me. "That was a hell of a game."

"Fuck yeah it was." Ben's grin was laughing and bold and while the resemblance to his brother was still striking, the more I saw of him the more his character showed through. There was an easygoing confidence to him that was very different from Daniel, and it made him all the more sexy. "Now all we're missing is beer. I wonder if Daniel has any...."

"I'm afraid I do not normally stock beer." Daniel's voice was amused from the doorway, causing us both to turn. "Wine perhaps. And this is why my entertainment room sounds like a hockey stadium?"

John was standing behind him, grinning. He glanced to Ben and then quirked an eyebrow pointedly at me, which I stalwartly ignored, smiling at Daniel. "Wine is for gourmet food, not hockey games."

"Sorry to drop by unannounced." Ben hopped over the back of the couch and moved to pull his brother into a warm hug. "Just wanted to see you now that we're properly moved in. I thought I could put together a late dinner for your crew?"

Daniel looked a little relieved. "Would you? I'm afraid all I've had time for lately is take-out."

"Larry offered to put something together but we decided we wanted to live," John remarked as we followed both brothers into the kitchen.

"Hey, I'm not that bad!" I replied indignantly.

John quirked an eyebrow. "Larry, I've seen what you eat. Tomato soup and rice?"

"What?" Ben turned to look at me, taken aback. "That's disgusting."

"It was mac and cheese and tomato soup," I shot back. "With tuna. All four basic food groups."

Ben didn't look any more convinced. "How the hell do you stay so fit?"

I shrugged, sitting down at the kitchen table as Daniel started to unload the shopping bags that had been left on the counter. "I have the metabolism of a fourteen year old and run five miles every morning."

"He's a masochist," John declared. "But he's got a great ass."

I half expected the normal straight-man repulsion from Ben. Instead he merely laughed softly, taking a package of meat and a cutting board from Daniel. "I wasn't really sure what to feed models so I figured we could do bison steaks in a red wine sauce and a garden salad?"

"It sounds amazing," I said, a sudden rumble of my stomach reminding me that I hadn't eaten since the paninis I'd brought over for brunch. "We'll eat anything though, no need to go to any trouble. Just the fact that it's real food is awesome." I looked to John as he opened his mouth. "No bratwurst comments."

"Oh come on - "

Ben laughed again, taking down a skillet and a saucepan and setting them both to heat on the stove as Daniel washed a bag of greens. "You two known each other long?"

I considered it. "Three years? Four?"

"Four," John agreed. "Larry picked me up in a bath house when I was just barely legal."

"He was singing in the lounge," I said quickly, which was the truth, though we'd spent the rest of the night having very enthusiastic sex. "I was recruiting for Frank - our manager - at the time."

"You sing?" Daniel's soft query cut John off before he could reply, and he turned from the sink to give John a little curious smile.

"Now you've discovered his secret obsession," Ben remarked with a soft chuckle, uncorking a bottle of wine.

"My sister and I both do," John replied with a grin, and launched into something from My Fair Lady. "I have often walked, down this street before~ but the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before~"

Ben turned back to the stove, shaking his head with a little knowing smile. I ignored the others and moved to stand by the fridge to watch him as he poured a good cup of the wine into the saucepan, mixing a package of gravy into it. "You're going to cook with that? That's good wine."

"We'll drink the rest," Ben told me, setting the bottle aside. "Rule number one - never cook with alcohol unless it's good enough to drink. That goes for beer, too. None of that 'BEER' brand beer if you're doing beer can chicken. Spring for a nice can of Heineken."

"Noted," I said, glancing back as John as he finished with a theatrical flourish.

"You're beautiful." Daniel sounded a little awed, the greens in the strainer completely forgotten about. "Why are you modeling? You should be singing."

John actually looked embarrassed at that, giving a grin and a shrug. "My parents wanted me to do Broadway but I decided all the actors are bitches. Modelling is way less work and stress for the money."

"Forget about Broadway." Daniel gave a little dismissive shake of his head. "Sing. Record. You have an amazing clear tone to your voice and it's obviously well trained. It's a waste not to use it. Ben, write him a song."

"What?" Ben had just shouldered him aside to take the forgotten spring mix out of the sink, shaking off the leaves and breaking them into smaller pieces. "I don't write anymore, _liebling_."

"You should," Daniel replied with a small frown. "You're good, too."

"We can't all follow our passions," Ben remarked calmly, plopping two of the steaks in the skillet before taking four plates down and starting to arrange the greens. "And you should be worrying about your competition instead of my guitar. Does anyone want their steak cooked more than medium rare?"

"Blue and bloody for me, please," I said quickly, and Ben gave a grin.

"A man after my own heart. Grab a seat at the table, it'll be done soon."

"Aye aye, mon Chef." I took a pile of utensils from Daniel and set them out at his kitchen table, having a seat. Daniel set out wine glasses, divvying up the rest of the bottle, and soon enough we were all eating the most tender, succulent steaks I'd ever had.

"This is amazing," John remarked, barely swallowing his food before devouring another piece.

"It's really flavourful," I agreed, having a sip of wine. "And this is a perfect blue rare. I've been in restaurants that don't cook it this good."

Ben smiled, quietly pleased. "It's easy enough with a bit of practice."

"You think the studio would let us hire him to feed us until fashion week?" John looked to Ben hopefully. "After you're done work, of course. I mean, Lester has to appreciate the value of good food, right?"

Ben laughed softly and shook his head. "I think my fiancee might complain about that. But I'll stop by when I can. Just let me know if you have any requests."

"Anything you want to feed us is greatly appreciated," I said before John could start listing dishes, giving him a pointed look. "No bratwurst."

"I was going to say anything about Bratwurst, hot dogs, or any other kind of sausage," he said with a mock huff. "Or bananas or zucchini or anything like that. Just because your mind is in the gutter doesn't mean mine is."

Daniel was laughing silently, and took a sip of his wine. "Where is Amy today?"

Ben swallowed another bite of steak. "Working. She's volunteered for a good chunk of the evening shifts at the Bellevue, says she's trying to earn brownie points with the boss."

"Feel free to stop by anytime you'd like company," Daniel offered with a soft smile. "I'm so happy to have you in town. I can't guarantee I won't be busy, but my models are contracted to the show exclusively until after fashion week, so when they're not doing work for Lester they will be here as well."

"We're Daniel's bitches," John said cheerfully, spearing another piece of steak.

"Speak for yourself," I shot back. "I'm here to look pretty."

"And wiggle that very fine ass of yours," John replied, taking a bite of the greens, which Ben had dressed with crasins, feta, some kind of nut, and a honey mustard vinagarette. "Oh my god, even the salad's amazing! Let's get married."

"I'm afraid I'm spoken for," Ben replied with a little bemused smile. "But I'm glad you like it."

"You'll have to excuse my friend," I said jokingly. "His mouth tends to move faster than his brain. Which isn't hard."

"Hey!"

"In reflection, perhaps you'll wish to delay your visits until after the competition is over?" Daniel offered lightly, which sent both John and I into peals of laughter.

Ben laughed as well, shaking his head. "No. No, this is great. Just what I needed."

After dinner I helped Ben wash up, John and Daniel disappearing back down to his workroom in the basement. "I can handle things here if you need to go downstairs," Ben started, but I shook my head.

"Daniel lets me know when he needs me. He doesn't even really need John all that much, they just...."

Ben gave a little nod in understanding. "They seem very happy together. It doesn't bother you? You and John seem... close."

I laughed, drying a plate and putting it away. "Nah. We tried dating once upon a time, but somehow we kept setting each other up with other people. But he's a good friend. I'm happy to see him settling down."

A knock came on the front door as I was about to pick up the next plate, and I left the kitchen to answer it, finding a very giddy Becker, who threw his arms around me. "Darling!"

I caught him with a laugh, narrowly avoiding a sloppy kiss by pressing my lips to his cheek. I felt too self conscious with Ben here. If Becker noticed, he didn't say anything. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Where? Where is not so much the question. You'll never guess who owns the penthouse suite in your apartment building."

I quirked an eyebrow. "You?"

Becker snorted. "Hardly. Better. You know how Abby said she'd try and find me someplace to stay until fashion week was over that was cheaper than a hotel?"

I nodded, waving my hand to urge him on. "Get to the good part."

Becker's grin was almost manical. "Lester volunteered his place."

"Lester? Becker, you dog. Jesus Christ, really?"

"Mmmhmmm." He breezed past me and headed for the stairs. "And I'm going to be sure to show him my appreciation. Oh hello, you're Daniel's brother, right? I'm Becker."

"Third model," I explained as Ben took Becker's offered hand with only a moment's hesitation.

"Congratulations?" Ben offered, looking almost relieved when Becker clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared downstairs.

I shut the front door and made my way over to him. "I'm sorry... we're not all so overwhelmingly flamboyant and sex obsessed, I promise."

Ben glanced up at me. "'We' as in Male models?"

"Or 'we' as in gay men. I don't want you to run screaming from your own brother's house...."

Ben gave a soft snort, heading back into the kitchen to finish the last plate in the sink. "Hardly. It's good for him."

"How so?"

Ben was silent for a moment, cleaning the skillet he'd used for the steaks. "Daniel was very... closeted growing up. He came out to me over the phone when he was fourteen and he'd never talked to anyone, he was so... so worried about our mother and his school mates and everything and I just...." he paused and wet his lips. "It killed me that I couldn't be there for him then. Seeing him come into his own like this is the most amazing thing in the world to me. Even if it means he's surrounded by... gay." He gave a little snort, handing me the skillet and pulling the plug in the sink. "Especially if it means he's surrounded by gay."

I could hear the sentiment behind his words, and I had to swallow down an unexpected lump in my throat before speaking. "... Daniel's really lucky to have you."

Ben looked over, searching my gaze for a moment before giving a soft smile. "Thanks. Hey... the Rangers are playing the Bruins on Friday, you think you're going to be around?"

The change of subject was a little relieving. "Yeah, I'll be here. I'll bring the beer if you cook again after?"

Ben grinned. "Deal."

~~~

 

Daniel's workspace was pristine - a spotless worktable, shelves of supplies and bins of fabric orderly, his pieces from the show hanging neatly on a rack by the stairs. The main wall of the room, though, was chaos. Daniel had ripped all the pages from his design book, which were tacked up on the wall along with fabric samples and new sketches on looseleaf. The center of the wall had a handwritten sign on it: "The Collection". Underneath were the original design sketches for John's grunged up seersucker suit with the fedora, a design based on the coat he'd sold to Neal Caffrey, and the design that had gotten us into the final three for Designer Showdown: a military inspired greatcoat in steel grey worn over a two-layered knit shirt, the top knit a deliciously rough textured smoke that he'd rubbed holes in to show the black underneath. Paired with distressed dark denim jeans and knee high riding boots, it was just the kind of edgy the judges loved from him. I'd loved wearing it, but I didn't delude myself: he'd designed it with John in mind, not me.

The fourth piece on the wall was definitely mine, though, a reworking of the first piece Daniel had made for me in competition. Without being limited by materials this time, he'd switched it around: now the buckle-clad bomber jacket was completely made of chestnut brown leather, and the skinny pants were an army green and black plaid. I perched on a stool beside his work table and watched him run the plaid through his sewing machine. "So will there be a bit of a plaid theme?"

"Not really a theme," he replied, eyebrows knitting together a little as he worked. "Perhaps one more piece in plaid. The Caffrey jacket will have little bits of plaid of course, but it's not the focus of the piece. It is, believe it or not, very difficult to design for men because of all the limitations, all of the things that are deemed as not masculine by society. A woman in mens clothing is strong. Not so for a man in women's clothing."

"I should introduce you to some of the Queens I know if you think that," John replied, which earned a laugh from Daniel. He pulled the pants off the machine and trimmed off the thread tails.

"That I have no doubt of. But I don't think I could get away with a drag show. I'm not certain it would suit the two of you, in any case. However I am considering a kilt." He motioned to a new design on the wall above the machine, something that looked like the bastard child of a kilt and a pair of cargo pants paired with a tight fitting black top and a thick belted waistband.

"If I wear it can I go commando?" John asked hopefully, and I watched Daniel's eyebrows quirk.

"I think it's best if we put Larry in the kilt. I want you in the seersucker and the new Caffrey jacket, and we realistically can't do any more than two outfits each." He handed me the pants. "Try these on, please?"

"I feel kinda punk," I noted, stepping out of my jeans and shimmying into the green plaid. "A punk theme? The other pieces are kind of punky."

"Rock star clothing," John noted, and Daniel gave a soft laugh.

"Yes, it is all a bit rock star, isn't it? There is a bit of a punk influence I suppose, but I want it to be cohesive without subscribing to any particular label." He looked over the plaid pants critically. "Shirt off, please?"

I stripped, walking an invisible runway alongside Daniel's work table. Ben was coming down the stairs as I turned at the wall and made my way back, and I gave him a smile, feeling suddenly and strangely self conscious of my half-nudity.

"They fit like a glove," John said approvingly, and Daniel nodded in agreement.

"I just won't eat anything before fashion week," I joked with a grin, grabbing my jeans and going behind the worktable to change back. John gave me a strange look at the sudden display of modesty, but I ignored it.

"I can cook lean," Ben said cautiously from the foot of the stairs, but I gave him a grin and shook my head.

"I'm just joking around," I reassured, pulling my shirt back on over my head. "Your cooking's great. We'd be ordering Chinese food otherwise. You need any help upstairs?"

"Go ahead and help," Daniel said before I could ask. "I should hem these, but we'll be up in a few."

 

 

I'd never expected it, but over the next six weeks Ben and I became fast friends. At first it was just over hockey; sprawled in Daniel's den with cold beer and Ben's beautiful golden lab Sasha curled up at our feet. Then it was movies when no teams worth watching were playing, and then somehow we were talking more than watching movies, sitting on the back porch and smoking cigarettes and talking about music or work or just ourselves as Ben idly tossed a tennis ball for Sasha to fetch back.

Three weeks before Fashion Week I started taking my morning runs with him and Sasha through various scenic routes around New York. It had been a long time since I'd run with a partner, and I discovered that despite our difference in height Ben and I - and the dog - kept stride surprisingly well. It was nice to run in companionable silence, taking in the sights of the city.

I met his fiancee once, on a morning where I arrived a little early to run with him in Queens. They were renting a small townhouse that seemed cluttered with half unpacked boxes, and I stayed in the front entry while Ben ran upstairs for his shoes, feeling strangely uncomfortable around him for the first time. It wasn't the fact that I was in love with him - which I had to admit, I was - but more that the house was a scene of domesticity that seemed very foreign in comparison to my world.

From somewhere on the ground floor level I heard a crash and a woman's voice. "Goddammit Ben! I thought I told you to put this shit in storage!"

Ben flew back downstairs and past me before I could hardly react, his voice low and apologetic from what I assumed was the kitchen. "I'm sorry love, I'm sorry - I thought you wanted it unpacked - "

"I don't want it unpacked. If I wanted it unpacked I would have fucking unpacked it myself now, wouldn't I?"

I winced, and Sasha padded out of the kitchen to sit at my feet, nuzzling my hand almost sympathetically. Or perhaps she just wanted a scratch. I let myself rub behind her ears, wondering if I should step outside.

"I'm sorry," Ben said again, "I'll take care of it after work, I promise. But I have to go - "

"I can't deal with this house, Ben. I can't breathe in here and if I'm not tripping over stuff I'm tripping over the damn dog and I - "

"Sweetie, I'm sorry. Can we figure this out later? Larry's here, I have to go."

"Who's here?" There was silence for a moment, and then a woman in a blue silk bathrobe appeared from the doorway Ben had disappeared through, immediately gracious. She was quite striking, even for a woman: latino with dusky skin and big dark eyes and features that were actually sweet when she smiled. It was a strange contrast to what I'd overheard, but I tried to push it away as she offered her hand. "Hey sorry about that. You're one of Daniel's models, right? I hope Ben hasn't been getting in the way of things."

"No no. The more the merrier." I forced a smile and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you." I was all too happy to follow Ben out of the house as soon as possible.

“Thank god Daniel's working with male models,” Ben said with a sigh as we left the house. “Amy’d never let me near you if he had a house filled with hot women. She gets so jealous sometimes…”

"Is everything all right with you two?" I asked carefully as we got into the car.

Ben gave a slightly embarrassed laugh, pulling out and starting the drive towards our destination, Flushing Meadows Corona Park. "Yeah, it's fine. We're just both a bit stressed from the move and adjusting to new jobs and all." He glanced over at me with a little rueful smile. "I escape to Daniel's while she's at work and de-stress so we can have some quality time before bed. Everything'll be settled by the wedding."

It was the way Ben acted around her, I realized suddenly. It was too careful, and compared to the Ben I'd seen in Daniel's company it seemed almost... fake. "Have you guys set a date yet?"

"Not a firm date, no. The move's been so hectic that we're going to wait until things get settled until we start any serious planning. Maybe next summer." He glanced over at me with a little smile. "You think you'll be in town?"

The unspoken invitation was sweet, but the thought of him getting married - especially to the woman I'd just met - made my stomach twist. I forced a smile. "Maybe. Depends on where the competition takes us. Frank's more successful models travel a lot, which would be a lot of fun, but on the other hand I don't completely want to leave New York either." We stopped at a light and I glanced over to find him watching me, and gave a warm smile. "I'm sure I can be in town. Hey, what do your people back home think about you uprooting and moving here?"

Ben gave a shrug. "I don't have much back in Philly, honestly. My high school friends are scattered all over the country and the guys at work were just work buddies."

"And your dad?"

Ben was silent for a moment. "He was killed in the line of duty two years ago."

I winced inwardly. "I'm sorry."

He gave a terse nod. "What does your family think of the competition?"

"I'm trying to get my mom to come over from Dublin for Fashion Week. I don't get to see much of her and she's always been really supportive of me. But she works for one of the papers and I don't know if they'll let her away long enough to travel. I'm an only child so she's pretty keen on it."

"The joys of scattered families," Ben remarked with a little rueful smile. "Your dad coming?"

I did wince at that. "Well... probably not. I haven't even really told him about the show. We get along better if we... don't talk about things."

"Mmmm." Ben was silent for a moment as we rounded a corner and headed into the park. "I'm sorry. That's kind of shitty."

I shrugged, looking out into the park as he pulled into a parking stall. "It's all right, I kind of always knew things would be like this. One of those things where if you have poor expectations you don't get disappointed." I got out of the car with him and started to stretch. "Daniel is lucky to have you, you know."

"Sometimes we make our own families," Ben replied quietly, looking out into the park. He snapped Sasha's leash onto her collar and stepped away from the car, turning to give me a smile. "Come on, lets go."

***


	2. Chapter 2

We saw Becker less and less as the weeks progressed. He came to Daniel's for the fittings, and when the camera crews came by to talk to us, but beyond that we saw very little of him. When we did see him the conversation was never far from James Lester, and while he was usually prudent enough not to go into detail, it was more than apparent that they'd not only hooked up but were still involved somehow.

Ben seemed to be around more and more, even on the weekends when I was sure Amy couldn't be working. A couple of times he took me shopping for groceries for dinner and I helped him prep, just happy to be in his company. It wasn't, perhaps, the wisest thing I'd ever done when I already felt so strongly for him, but once the competition was done I'd probably be too busy with work to spend much time here, I rationalized, so I might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

As the date of the final runway show approached Daniel seemed oddly serene. He'd often seemed nervous during the competition with approaching deadlines, but his work now had a kind of quiet confidence and strength to it, and it calmed my nerves as well. Perhaps it just had something to do with getting laid on a regular basis, but I was fairly certain that John's presence was a positive one for more reasons than just sex. John seemed calmer, too, and his unmistakable adoration for Daniel was sweet... even if I did feel a little jealous of the two of them at times. I loved that they were together and the happiness I could see, and I tried not to wonder what it would be like to have something like that in my life. My own sex life had kind of taken a backseat since the competition; I went out a couple of times and met up with a few booty calls, but my heart wasn't in it. I tried not to think about why.

I arrived at Daniel's one afternoon, a few days before the final show. Daniel wanted to do a dry run of his pieces; time how long it would take to change us from one outfit to the next and see if there were any snags that would cause a dresser trouble. "You have ten models all together," I'd asked him as he was working out the show order. "Why don't you just give us one outfit each?"

Daniel had given a firm shake of his head. "You're my models. You and John have been very good to me, and I designed this for you. I want to show the pieces on who I intended them for, and I want you to have exposure over whatever models they just brought in for the show."

It was a sweet sentiment, and I appreciated it more than I expected. I just hoped we could handle it.

John was lounging in the living room when I arrived that afternoon, his black cat Amedea walking on the couch cushions and over his lap as she rubbed up against his outstretched fingers. I settled on the other end of the couch and watched Amedea's green eyes close in contentment, her purring audible even from my distance. "You know, green eyes... only you would get a cat because she looks like you."

John chuckled, rubbing behind Amedea's ears affectionately. "But they say that's what you're supposed to do. Pets should represent you. Isn’t that why you’ve got that weird looking fish? You know, with the big mong mong....” He stuck out his lips in a mock impersonation of a fish, laughing when I punched his shoulder. "Ow!"

"Don't make fun of the Mob Boss, that fish is probably older than you," I shot back, laughing, leaning back into the corner of the couch. "Maybe I should donate him to the agency. It seems unfair to make Leon come over to feed him every time I'm out of town...."

"You think you're going to be traveling a lot, then?" John watched me quietly, gathering Amedea up into a purring ball of fur against his chest.

"I'm hoping for some higher profile jobs when the show finishes. Frank's already getting calls for us and they've only shown the first seven episodes on TV."

"I'm going to stay in New York," John said slowly, trailing fingers over Amedea's fur. "Even if we don't win... Daniel's going to do some amazing things. I want to be with him for that." He glanced over at me, trying to keep his voice light. "What about Ben?"

I looked away, feeling my stomach twist at the thought. "What about him?"

John gave a soft sigh, voice lowering. "I know you like him. Are you going to say anything? He obviously likes you."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Friends, John. He's engaged, remember? And not into cock. I'm happy with what I have."

I watched John frown, seeming almost disgruntled. "You should still say something. When have I ever steered you wrong when it comes to men?"

"You don't steer me when it comes to men, I steer you," I reminded him. "Where is Daniel, anyway?"

"Out on the back porch talking about something serious with Ben." He shrugged. "They'll be in eventually."

I went into the kitchen under the pretense of getting a glass of water, glancing out the back window to find both brothers just as John had described, sitting at the patio table. I could hear the familiar low rumble of voices, but couldn't make out any words. Daniel had one hand resting palm up on the tabletop, and Ben had taken it with his own, fingers curled around his. He looked troubled - they both did - and I found myself wondering if he'd had another fight with Amy.

Daniel glanced up to see me through the window, giving me a soft smile. He patted Ben's hand with his free one, saying something before standing and heading for the backdoor. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said as he entered, giving me a warm smile.

I shook my head, sipping my water. "Oh no, don't come in just because of me. We can wait. Becker's not here yet anyway."

"Becker is... otherwise engaged," Daniel replied with a little quirk of his lips. "We will be all right. Come, let's get to work."

We measured out an approximate runway length, which ended up being almost twice the walk from Daniel's backdoor to his front, so we brought the rack of clothes up from the basement and did the dressing in his kitchen while Ben stood by with a stopwatch, timing the show and giving direction. It was too involving to feel self-conscious about the fact that I was stripping down in front of Ben, though the idea of being self-conscious at all was a bit ridiculous. He'd already seen me in skivvies if he'd looked at the Macy's Spring catalogue. Or at least, he'd seen my ass in skivvies. And I did have a great ass.

We ran into some trouble with getting the ties tied in time, and had to resort to loosening them and re-tightening them, something with made Daniel wrinkle his nose. Still in the end we had it down to an art.

"You're going to do wonderfully," John said to Daniel as he pulled his own clothes back on, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. "We're going to be amazing."

I caught Ben watching them as they kissed, a strange, almost thoughtful expression on his face. Then he seemed to catch himself, giving me a smile as he started to put pieces of clothing back on hangers, glancing over at me as I moved to help. "You nervous?"

"Not with how sexy Daniel's clothes are," I replied with a smile, and tried to put the idea of loving Ben Carson out of my mind entirely.

 

***

 

The morning of the show I met them at the venue, getting out of the cab just as they starting to unload the studio van ahead of me under the watchful eyes of the cameras. "Good timing," Ben remarked, giving me a grin and a pile of garment bags. "Just follow Daniel, he knows where everything is."

I couldn't help but grin back, excitement and nervousness buzzing in the pit of my stomach. "You managed to get the day off?"

"I did a couple trades. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

John and I were shuttled off to hair and makeup as soon as we'd dropped off our packages, leaving Ben and Daniel to sort and organize everything. We found Becker already in the chair, one stylist working his hair into a slightly tousled, edgy look while another applied a light foundation to even out his skin tone and keep the shine of the runway lights off his face. "You're late," he teased.

"We can't all come to work with the boss," John shot back with a grin, settling down in a chair. "I'm so excited about the eyeliner."

"You're such a fag," I joked as I walked by to take the third chair, watching the stylists start to work on arranging his mane of curls. It was all very simple, but designed to go with the edgy style of his collection. Lips were left neutral, moisturized and carefully defined in liner to match our natural colouring but nothing more. Skintone was evened out and brightened, looking very fresh and natural. Brows were brushed, tweezed and penciled. It wasn't anything that I hadn't experienced for a show in the past. But even I had to admit the eyeliner was pretty fun. A dark charcoal liner was excentuated with mineral shadows, hints of purple and green that drew attention to my grey blue eyes and John's pretty greens.

"We look like rock stars," John declared, catching my eye in the mirror and grinning. "This is going to be awesome."

We left the makeup chairs to three of the other models that had been brought in to help, heading back to our dressing area backstage. We passed Reid and Morgan in their dressing area, surrounded by models and dressers and a very harried looking Garcia, and I gave a nod, thinking not for the first time that it was a shame that they were together and quite exclusive.  
Daniel was in a state of barely controlled panic. "I'm missing one of my dressers," he said, trying to steam a crease out of the back of the greatcoat. "The rest of the models should be out of makeup soon and I'm missing a dresser and this coat won't steam, _gottverdammt_ , and I - "

"We'll be okay." John's voice was low and calming, reminding me a little of the way I used to speak to him whenever he got his underwear tied in a knot. He slipped an arm around Daniel's waist and pressed a soft kiss to his hair. "Larry and I know how to dress these outfits and so does Ben. Just steam the coat, just take things one step at a time. We'll be fine."

"I'll be here to do whatever you need me to do," Ben said, returning to our curtained off area with a bottle of orange juice that looked like it had a few sips taken out of it. He uncapped it and handed it to Daniel. "Have a drink."

Daniel gave him a questioning look. "Orange juice?"

Ben's eyebrows quirked a little. "Yes. Orange juice."

Daniel took a large swallow that turned into a fit of coughing. "Ben! That's - "

"Liquid courage?" He offered with a little smile, taking the bottle back from him and handing it to Becker, who happily took a swig and passed it on to John.

Daniel caught his breath, seeming almost mortified. "Ben, I can't do this drunk - "

"Shh. It's not enough to get you drunk, _liebling_. Just a pre-celebration drink." He leaned closer upon seeing that Daniel was still unconvinced, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "I promise I won't arrest you for drinking in public."

That earned a soft laugh, and Daniel relaxed a little against him. "Could you help Larry with his first outfit, please?"

"Happy to," Ben replied, and reclaimed the orange juice from John before he could drink anymore. He offered it to me. "Want?"

"I'll definitely have a pre-celebratory orange juice," I replied, taking a good swallow and trying not to cough myself. "... not much orange juice in there, is there?"

Ben chuckled, low and devious. "Well I figured it might draw some looks if I just handed around my hip flask." He finished the bottle off and tossed it in the trash. "So. The kilt?"

"The kilt," I replied, unbuttoning my shirt and tossing it into an empty bin.

Ben took down the first hanger, which held a black knit shirt made of strips of shiny black lycra with almost sheer stretch chiffon between them. He bundled it up and pulled it over my head without messing up my hair, then helped me find the arms. "So, ah... are you wearing it the traditional way?"

I laughed, feeling the back of my neck heat up. Must have been the alcohol. "I considered it, but I figured it was probably a better idea not to accidentally flash the judges."

"Good call," Ben replied with a grin, but he looked a bit uneasy as he grabbed the hanger with the kilt and belt on it.

I toed off my sneakers and added them and my jeans to the bin, taking the kilt from him and pulling it on. "Sorry."

He glanced back at me, holding the belt. "Sorry?"

"Yeah, I - I forget I can be a bit flamboyant sometimes."

Ben seemed puzzled at that, doing up the buckles on the belt as I held it in place. "You aren't, don't worry about it. I've never been uncomfortable around you."

"But - oh..." I was interrupted by Daniel before I could puzzle it out anymore, bringing another model over, a blond with chin length hair and striking blue eyes who I didn't recognize from the show.

"Ben, Larry, this is Eric. Can you get him into the white outfit as soon as you're done?"

"Sure, I just have to get my boots on," I replied, grinning at the newcomer. "How's it going? I'm Larry."

"Nice to meet you," Eric replied, glancing me up and down with a little smirk. "So, are you going commando under there?"

"He's wearing shorts," Ben snapped before I could give a suitably flirtatious reply, taking down a pair of distressed white jeans from a hanger that had been artfully tea-stained and screen printed with a newsprint pattern in light brown. "Strip, put these on. I hope you're wearing white boxers."

"Briefs, as requested. Though normally I don't bother with anything," he replied with a smirk, stepping out of his shoes and dropping his jeans. The briefs didn't leave much to the imagination. I gave a low chuckle and grabbed my boots from their box - chunky black ankle boots with a bit of a heel that zipped up the side for ease of access. By the time I straightened he was fully dressed in a white button down with it's sleeves ripped off, the back falling to tattered tails near his knees. It was one of the more casual looks and he wore it very well.

I reached out to straighten the collar of his shirt. "It looks really good on you."

Eric grinned. "Thanks. We going out anywhere after the show?"

"We have to head the studio," Ben said, handing Eric a pair of boots before pushing past us. "We'll call you if there's an after party. Daniel, who's next?"

Eric leaned closer to me with a soft chuckle, lowering his voice. "If he ever decides to share, give me a call. Daniel has my number. You boys are beautiful."

"But we're not..." I started, voice trailing off as he started away with an intentional waggle of the hips.

"Douchebag," Ben muttered as he came back with another model.

"He thought you were cute," I replied, grabbing the next outfit off the rack.

"He's insane," Ben replied, steering the next model towards me. "All right, pretty boy. Strip."

Daniel had drawn to go last, which I supposed was adventageous but didn't do anything for his nerves. He paced back and forth while Garcia's show went on ahead of us, all of his models dressed and waiting apart from the three that would don the pieces that John, Becker and I were wearing now when we changed to our second outfits. Ben finally caught his arm. "Daniel, you're wearing a track in the tile. Everything's set. You're going to do fine."

Daniel looked up at him anxiously. "Do I look all right? Is everything laid out for the other outfits? Will we - "

"You look fine," Ben interrupted, smoothing his vest. "You look amazing. Go stand with John and try not to think about the competition for a bit, all right? Or else I'll feed you more orange juice."

"No more orange juice," Daniel said firmly, moving to stand beside John as if for protection.

"We'll be fine," John said softly, pressing up against his back and wrapping his arms around his waist, and for once, Daniel let him, relaxing back against him just a little. "We all look amazing, love. People will see that no matter how we do in the competition. You're happy with everything, right? This is what you want people to see?"

"I am happy with everything," Daniel said slowly, then glanced back at him with a soft smile. "Thank you."

We could hear the applause for Garcia's work from the main stage as her models did their last round of the catwalk and I straightened, seeing Jenny on her way with one of the camera crews. "Showtime."

For all Daniel's worrying, once the show began it was just a matter of putting into play what we'd practiced. John opened the show in his seersucker suit, and Becker followed him in the greatcoat, then me in my kilt. John was already half undressed when I returned backstage, the suit handed off to one of Daniel's dressers, who went to work on one of the extra models. "Your turn," Ben said, starting to undo the buckles on my belt as I pulled the shirt over my head and handed it off, trying to remain calm and not rush. I pulled the zippers on my boots to step out of them and the kilt and into the green plaid pants. I could hear Becker cursing as he tried to get out of the riding boots, but when I turned to look Ben caught my jaw with his fingertips, turning my face back to him. "Focus on me. We'll get this done first and then we can help."

I tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach, letting him help me into my shirt and the deep brown leather jacket, which as a finished product had been trimmed with a spiky fur collar in a deep green/black, the cuffs trimmed with small gold gears in various shapes. Ben settled a pair of aviator goggles onto my head and around the back of my hair that had been painted gold, the strap replaced with plaid the same as pants. He smiled, patting my shoulder. "You look great."

There was a moment of panic when we couldn't find John's hat, and Ben finally had to push Becker and I back into the line-up before we missed our queues. Becker headed off in his second piece - a thigh length black canvas vest that was belted at the waist and had a huge ruff of a collar made of green-black coque feathers. It was worn over wide-legged cargos and boots as clunky as mine. Seconds before I had to step out onto the runway John ran up to join me, hat safely found and on his head, and I stepped out onto the runway, passing Becker as he stepped off and losing myself to the lights and cameras and the beat of the music.

John swept onto the runway as I was leaving, and I caught his eye with a smile as a low murmur arose from the crowd. We'd agreed unanimously that he, and this piece, should crown the collection. We still called it the Caffrey jacket, but what had been inspired from a night of frantic attempts to fix a sabotaged design had become so much more. The original short jacket had become a full paneled, floor length coat in a black oilskin type suiting that billowed and trailed after John with little hints of colour as he moved, split up the front to show slim fitting black suit pants as he walked. The seams of the patchwork coat were still visible, intentionally raw and trimmed with frayed plaid in white and grey, the lapels sharp, the shirt underneath distressed and the black tie screen printed with white newsprint. But the coat was trimmed with epaulettes made of the same green-black coque feathers as Becker's vest, and a corsage made of a black and plaid flower and more couque feathers. The fedora had been traded for a black silk top hat trimmed with coque and an albino peacock feather, and the whole effect was incredibly striking.

The best part of it all, however, returning with John to the runway with Daniel between us, his own pinstripe pants and matching vest with newsprint patterning fitting right into his line. I could almost feel his happiness in the thunderous applause that poured out from the crowd, and couldn't stop myself from grinning like an idiot in the flashbulbs and runway lights, just like they were.

***

 

The waiting after the runway show had finished was far more agonizing than the show itself had been. The judges left immediately to deliberate, and John, Daniel and I were kept out front for a good half hour talking to and being questioned by industry people. Or at least Daniel was. John and I just stayed on his flanks and looked pretty. I watched Garcia and the other designer - a quiet brunette named Jeremie that I hadn't personally had a chance to work with - move through the crowd with some of their models and reflected that though the competition would be very stiff, this show would definitely put all of them on the map.

When the crowd finally thinned out and we managed to make our way backstage we found that Ben and Becker had taken charge of Daniel's dressers, gotten the rest of the models undressed and the whole show was almost completely packed up.

Daniel pulled his brother into a tight hug. "You're amazing, _mein Herz_. Thank you. I couldn't have done this without you."

Ben chuckled softly, hugging him tightly. "You could have," he reassured, pressing a kiss to his hair. "You just wouldn't have been as well fed. Come on, we have to get this packed up and get you over to the studio."

They let us wait in the model's lounge at the studio when the designers went in to speak with the judges, able to see everything live on the feed. Ben calmly poured a glass of orange juice from the pitcher on the refreshment table, and when he handed it to me there was a goodly amount of rum in it. I sipped it, trying to settle my nerves.

The runway had already been disassembled in the main room, and the room seemed very large and empty with only the three remaining contestants standing in front of the judges table. Still, Daniel seemed strong and collected in front of the camera, and I felt more proud of him in that moment than I ever had before. I tried to listen to them speak, but the words ran in one ear and out the other.

When Garcia was named runner up we offered congratulations to Reid and Morgan and Cherry's uncle, who slipped out of the room to meet her in the designer's lounge, and the clench of nervousness tightened around my stomach. I'd always considered her our biggest competition. Could we possibly....?

Ben's hand slipped into mine suddenly, clenching tightly, and for a moment I didn't hear anything at all except for the pound of my heart and the rush of blood in my ears. Then Lester was speaking, congratulating Daniel, and John was near squeeling, pulling us all into a massive hug. He pressed a hard kiss to Ben's mouth, then Becker's before claiming mine as well, and I tried to push away the sudden surge of jealousy as he darted out the door of the lounge.

Ben looked a little dazed, but kept his arm securely around my shoulders, glancing over to give me a warm smile. "Congratulations, mister top model."

"Oh god." The knowledge hit like a ton of bricks. "I... won?"

"Bloody well right you won." Becker pulled me into a congratulatory kiss as well. "GQ, motherfucker. Let's go get Daniel. First 'round's on me."

I tried to process everything that had happened, standing frozen with Ben's arm still around my shoulders. I looked to him. "Um. Sorry about John."

"It's all right," he said softly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. "The congratulations is deserved. Let's go?"

"Yeah," I managed to stammer, and followed him dazedly out of the lounge, heart pounding and my skin tingling where his lips had pressed to it.

***

 

I'd expected some kind of an after show dinner, and was amazed when the studio pulled out all the stops. Everyone who'd come back to the studio for the final results - judges, models, family and crew - were shipped over to the Fairmont Hotel, greeted with a lavish spread and happy hour drink specials. There were bottles of champagne on the tables, and I popped the cork on ours before John could spray it all over the place, pouring it into glasses already raised in toast as it fizzed over the neck of the bottle. "To Daniel!"

"To the whole competition," Daniel replied, already giddy. "To all of you."

We then proceeded to get incredibly, inordinately plastered.

I vaguely remembered Daniel making us eat something at one point in the night, toasting everyone and being given more drinks than I could count. Between that and the champagne I don't think I actually bought a drink the entire night. Someone had taken over the room's PA system as the night grew later and hooked up an ipod, and the upbeat pulse of club music became the background to our celebration.

Lester gave a speech at some point commending us all on the success of the show, then begged off to another engagement and disappeared with Becker in tow. Becker returned a few hours later, happy and still drunk, and bought us all another round of shots.

"You need a Lester, darling," he told me as he snuggled up against my side, sipping a beer. "Handsome rich gent who's fabulous in bed. I'm staying in New York, by the way. Lined up some jobs. I'll be in your building. You should stop by sometime."

I chuckled and kissed his hair. "We'll go out for drinks sometime, Romeo."

"The hotel's kicking us out." Ben appeared at my elbow with a frown. "Should we hit up a bar?"

"My place is close and has a lot of booze," I offered. "Hey John? Let's move to my apartment."

John was already helping Daniel on with his jacket, who glanced back at John questioningly. John grinned back at me and shook his head. "We already have a cab on the way to go home for our own celebration," he replied wth a quirk of one eyebrow. "But I'll call you tomorrow if we're not completely wrecked. Take Ben and Becker back with you."

I tried to ignore any hint of inuendo in his voice, glancing to Ben. "You're welcome at my place if Amy isn't expecting you any time soon....?"

Ben hesitated, then shook his head. "She knows I'm going to be out late. Let's go drink more."

Between the win and the haze of the alcohol I felt like nothing in the world could possibly go wrong. The three of us piled into a cab back to my apartment building, but when we got in the elevator Becker produced a swipe card and hit the button to the penthouse. "I'm going to head up and change into something more comfortable," he told us. "I've got a bottle of vodka that I'll bring down for screwdrivers. I'll meet you back at your place in a bit?"

"Sure," I replied, taking Ben out of the elevator as it stopped on my floor, fumbling through my coat pockets for keys to let us in. "It's not super tidy, but it's home," I apologized, heading into the kitchen for beer.

"It's comfortable," Ben replied, taking the offered Guiness from me and cracking it open. "I like it."

I took a swallow of mine as well, pulling down a bottle of Jack Daniel's from above my fridge. "Shots now, or wait for Becker?"

"Now," Ben replied after a moment's consideration, taking the bottle from me as I grabbed two shot glasses and headed into the living room, throwing my jacket over the back of a chair. Ben shrugged out of his as well, and when I set the glasses down on the coffee table in front of him he filled them both, setting the bottle down and picking up one. "What are we drinking to?"

I grabbed the second glass. "The best damn designer in the city."

"And his model," Ben replied with a grin, shooting back the drink and setting it down on the table with a satisfying smack. "Another?"

I swallowed down the amber liquid, coughing a little at the burn of the alcohol. "You're gonna kill me. I'm not going to be able to get out of bed tomorrow." But I couldn't resist his expectant smile, grabbing the bottle and refilling both glasses.

"Awesome." Ben grabbed his glass. "To new friends."

"Hell yeah." I clinked the glass to his and downed the shot, grabbing my cell from my pocket as it buzzed with a text message. "Becker's ditching, says he's... otherwise occupied."

Ben snorted, taking a swallow of his beer. "Eating bratwurst, I assume."

I burst into peals of laughter at that, falling back against the back of the couch and half against him. In the comfort of my own apartment I felt warm and safe and very, very drunk, and was struck with the sudden thought that things couldn't really get any more awesome than this. "You're amazing," I told him as I caught my breath, looking up at him.

Then I stopped, watching him, feeling something change somehow. Something about the intent in his eyes and the atmosphere between us. Before I could question it he'd reached out to cup my face, bringing his mouth to mine in a simple, soft caress. I leaned into it on instinct, then froze, heart pounding, meeting his gaze as he drew back. "Ben...."

Ben looked suddenly uncertain, and his lips parted as if to speak, but closed again without words. Then he reached for me again, pulling me into a kiss that was all hunger and longing, fingers slipping up to tangle in my hair as he licked his way into my mouth, hot and tasting of the whisky we'd been drinking. I pulled him closer without thinking, fingers tangling in the front of his shirt, a little needy, desperate whine escaping my throat that seemed to encourage him even more.

He pressed me back into the crook of my sectional in a haze of kisses, half on top of me, sucking and nipping at my lips and plundering my mouth with a seemingly single-minded desire for ownership. He'd pushed my t-shirt up around my armpits, one hand stroking hungrily over my chest, and I let my hands slip down to cup his ass and pull him closer, something that made him groan helplessly against my mouth, hips bucking against mine. But I shouldn't - I couldn't -

"I can't do this," I gasped, breaking from his mouth, bringing my hands up against his chest. "I can't - Ben, I'm sorry, I can't - " I squirmed out from under him, standing and retreating a few steps towards the kitchen and trying not look at him, trying to calm the pounding of my heart.

I heard Ben get off the couch behind me, but he didn't come any closer, his voice low and quiet. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed hard, running a hand through my hair to try and ground myself. "I mean that you need to go home to your fiancee, Ben."

For a moment he was silent. Then I heard him sigh softly. "... yeah. Yeah, I guess I should."

I wanted to tell him to stay, every part of me aching to pull him close again and not let go. Instead I made my way back to my front entry, hearing him follow. "You want me to call you a cab?"

"No, no. It's all right. It'll be faster for me to just grab one on the street."

"Okay." I turned to face him finally, one hand resting on the doorknob. "I'm sorry. I didn't... expect this."

Ben gave a short shake of his head and was silent for a long moment, one hand resting on the door as if to keep it closed. He reached out with the other to let it rest lightly on my shoulder, staring at his fingers on my shirt for a long moment before raising his eyes to mine. "Larry... I like you."

I couldn't keep hold of his gaze, not with hearing those words and all that they could mean. I closed my eyes for a moment, then focused on the wall behind his shoulder. "I like you too, Ben. That's why I can't do this. I'm sorry."

He said nothing in reply, standing silently, and after a moment moved his fingers to brush my jaw. "Lar...."

"Don't." I jerked back away from his touch, stepping back altogether. "Just - please. Please."

For a moment all I saw in Ben's eyes was hurt. Then he schooled it away, nodding sharply and pulling the door open. "I'll see you around, then," he said, and was gone.

For a long moment I stood in the front entryway of my apartment, leaning back against the door with my eyes closed, my stomach tying itself in knot after knot. My mind went over everything - his words, his kisses, the way he looked at me. But what was this, really? Just some experimentation to complete before tying himself into a marriage? Just fun, just a friendship? Part of me wanted to go after him, to catch hold of him and demand answers. To ask what he meant and what he felt and if this was as serious that the little shudder in the pit of my stomach thought it might be.

Part of me was scared as hell at what the answers might be. If I didn't know then I could pretend that it was nothing but play. If I didn't know then I wouldn't have to ask myself whether or not I felt the same, whether or not this trembling ache inside me meant that harmless desire had turned to something far more dangerous.

Maybe it was better for me not to know.

I went back into the living room and drained the dregs of the bottle of Jack, wishing I had more hard liquor. I wanted, needed something to distract me, or at least to put me to sleep so I could get away from this twist of agony in my gut at not knowing. Finally I clicked through the numbers on my cell phone until I found Becker's, dialing it.

"Hey, Larry. You guys done partying already?"

"Yeah, I think we're calling it a night," I said, glancing towards my empty front entryway. "Where are you at?"

"Still upstairs. Are you doing okay? You sound a little... off."

"I'm... okay," I replied, feeling relieved at the sound of his voice but at the same time keyed up and nervous at the thought of telling someone what was going on.

"Bullshit," he replied, but his voice was kind. "Look, James is off with business contacts. Come up to the penthouse and we'll have a chat about whatever’s bothering you and fool around and make you feel better, all right?"

I raised an eyebrow even though he couldn't see it through the phone. "Fool around?"

"I'm free to do as I like when he's gone, long as we use the guest room." Becker's voice was strangely proud. “Same as he is. We figured it was the only realistic way to make things work.”

I tried to fathom the arrangement. “And you’re all right with him seeing other men?”

“I can’t say I’m not a little jealous, but considering the fact that I would have been happy with as little as giving him head in a nightclub bathroom, the fact that I’m pretty much his kept man….” The joy was more than evident in his voice, and I couldn’t help but feel a twist of jealousy. “Larry, this is better than I ever dreamed of. And I’ve still got the freedom to do as I please. I’m so happy. Now get up here so I can blow you.”

I chuckled softly, slipping on my shoes. I felt a little guilty contemplating this so soon after Ben’s kiss, but the opportunity to lose myself in something familiar and safe was too tempting to turn down. “You know, Hils, I think that is exactly what I need.”

***


	3. Chapter 3

Spending the night with Becker didn't really sort anything out, though it was nice to lose myself to sex for a while. Becker and I had frequently been easy, familiar bedfellows, and with John committed it was the kind of sex I realized I'd been missing since we'd left the studio apartments to prep for fashion week.

"Oh good, now I won't have to send someone out to find you." I woke up a few hours later to the rising sun streaming in through the blinds and a headache that threatened to split my skill in two. The voice was dry and familiar, and when I forced my eyelids open I found James Lester standing in the doorway of the spare room Becker and I had passed out in.

I pushed myself up onto my arms and tried to swallow past the dead animal in my mouth. "Oh god."

The corner of Lester's mouth twitched slightly, then was schooled back into place. "I called ahead on my way home and had the butler make some very nice coffee. I see it was a prudent idea. Hils, get him up and showered and give him the hangover remedy in the cupboard. GQ needs you in makeup in two hours, Mr. Byrne."

I rubbed a hand across my eyes, but it only served to aggravate the jackhammer in my skull. "GQ?"

"Yes. They want your cover to go out as soon as possible after the show has finished, and I agree. Better publicity."

"Oh." I swallowed hard, trying very hard to mentally pull yourself together. "Was I told about this shoot last night?"

"By Miss Abigale, actually. I believe Mr. Murdoch's reply was, and I quote, 'GQ, Motherfuckers, let's have another shot," and you all cheered and continued to drink your faces off." He did break a smirk at that, then cleared his throat. "Are you able to work, Mr. Byrne, or do you wish to succeed your crown to the runner up?"

"I'll be fine," I croaked, and fell out of bed.

Thankfully a shower did wonders - especially Lester's shower, which was an amazingly decadent waterfall affair with side jets and steam - and by the time I'd pulled on borrowed clothes, had a coffee, a banana, and a cocktail of random pills, I felt almost human again.

At least work would keep me from thinking about Ben.

When I reached the studio Daniel's collection was hung and steamed and ready to wear, but the designer himself was strangely absent. I supposed there wasn't really a point for him to be around for my shoot, but it felt strange to be there without him. Three more of his pieces had been added to the collection - more off-the-rack designs that he'd deemed too ordinary for the runway show, but that would hold more appeal to the magazine reading public.

"How are you feeling?" Becker had tagged along, citing lack of anything better to do before the shoot we'd be doing together later this afternoon. He settled in the makeup chair next to me as they went to work on my hair, sipping some kind of blended fruit drink he'd gotten from somewhere, and leaned out from the other makeup chair to offer me some.

I took a long pull on the straw with a soft grunt of thanks. "I think I might survive. If they don't turf me for looking like I've been hit by a semi."

"You look fine," Becker assured, leaning back in the chair. "No worse than me, in any case. Makeup will take care of the rest."

"Ah, here is my subject." A dark-haired man breezed into the room with Lester. He was dressed in a white suit and a scarf instead of a tie, all style and flamboyance. He looked closer to Lester's age, but had an impish kind of quality to his smile and the look in his eyes that made me think he'd be a hell of a lot of fun. He offered his hand. "Good morning, Mister Byrne. My name is Alan, I'm one of the head photographers for GQ. I'm looking forward to working with you today."

I clasped his hand and turned on the charm, giving a warm smile. "Pleased to meet you. Please call me Larry."

"Larry, then." He cupped my cheeks with his hands, turning my face this way and that. "Your background is primarily in intimates, yes? They say you were an unexpected win, but I disagree. You are quiet unconventionally striking. And I've always had a weakness for gingers. I don't suppose we can play up this adorable smattering of freckles across your cheeks?"

"I don't think it would fit with the collection," Lester replied from behind him.

"Ah. Pity." Alan stepped back to perch on the edge of the makeup counter in front of me, watching as the artist started to apply foundation to my skin. "I insist on working with that luscious mouth, though. You have a beautiful mouth, Larry. And very nice cheekbones. I don't suppose you're single?"

"No," I replied without thinking, though it was a complete lie. Normally I'd respond to the flirting in kind with any attractive man who showed interest, but today it seemed awkward to play the game.

"Do call me if that changes," Alan replied with a little smirk, hopping down off the counter and heading towards the studio with Lester following. "Have them dress you in the first outfit on the rack and come in when you're finished, please."

"Are you crazy?" Becker hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. "He's gorgeous. And loaded. And you lied?"

I closed my eyes and said nothing, letting the makeup artist powder my face. Becker was right on all counts, and I'd never held back from mixing business with pleasure in the past. Why was I letting one mistake of a kiss with a goddamn straight man effect me so much?

"Jesus." Becker gave a soft sigh. "You really have it bad, don't you? Told you it was a rotten idea to hang out with John so much. You've caught his bloody romanticism."

"I guess so," I murmured, opening my eyes and taking the hand mirror from my makeup artist, inspecting the work with an approving nod. "I just... I think I just need a bit of time, Hils."

"Don't take too long," he warned, watching me seriously. "This is a huge opportunity you've got here with winning the competition, exposure like this might not come around again. You can't afford to be held back by a silly crush."

"I know," I replied, standing and heading for wardrobe.

They put me in the aviator outfit first, and for a time I lost myself in the familiarity of shooting, of setting aside my own emotion to take the direction of the photographer. Look here, tilt your head like so, give me thoughtful, give me devilish. The setting was simple, a crumbling wall as a backdrop, a rusted oil drum, a stack of artfully distressed pallets that were moved and re-piled by the half dozen aides on set. I'd gone through almost all of the pieces from the show as well as the off-the rack add-ons when John and Daniel finally showed up, looking completely uneffected by last night's excesses.

John had just gotten out of makeup when I came back for another wardrobe change, and pulled me into a big hug in greeting. "Morning, handsome. Afternoon. Whatever. You survived last night?"

"Barely, I replied with a grin, letting the dressers help me out of the white outfit that Eric had worn for the show. "You look better than ever, you ass."

"It's the sex," he replied, dropping his voice to a theatrical whisper.

"I heard that," Daniel remarked from the other side of the rack, coming back with the Caffrey jacket. "Get naked."

"Ooh, I love it when you're forceful with me." John gave a cheeky smile, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it over a nearby chair.

Daniel shook his head, but the look in his eyes and the little smile that played about his lips were so unmistakably fond that I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. He glanced to me. "I hope my brother behaved himself?"

For a moment I froze, then forced a smile. "Yeah, we didn't stay up too late. Just had a couple beers and then he took a cab home."

Daniel regarded me quietly for a moment, then nodded. "Good to hear. I hope we'll still see you around the workshop even with the competition over?"

"If Frank doesn't work me like a slave," I joked in reply, though in truth the thought of being at Daniel's - the thought of seeing Ben - left me feeling a strange mix of longing and terror.

Daniel looked a little wistful. "Yes... I suppose we will both be quite busy going forward. With luck."

"Larry will find time to come visit," John said before I could reply. "If not we'll kidnap him. I do still have a key to his apartment."

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied, and pulled back on the brown leather bomber jacket.

We spent the rest of the day taking what seemed like thousands of photos, changing in and out of different combination of outfits, posing as directed and only pausing briefly for a lunch of finger food that was brought in. Finally Alan seemed satisfied, calling a wrap, and we went back to wardrobe to change.

 

Alan caught me just as I was about to start changing, still as admiring as he'd been all day. He tucked a business card into my hand. "Give me a call if you'd like to see the finished product, gorgeous. I'd be happy to give you an advance viewing."

I returned his smile a little more invitingly than I had earlier. I had warmed up to him during the day... and maybe Becker was right. "Perhaps I'll make my agent make some room in my schedule for a follow up appointment?"

"I'll look forward to it," he replied, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek, lips brushing the corner of my mouth as he did.

Daniel was quiet while he helped me undress, but it was a different silence than his normal shy demeanor. "Have you talked to Ben since last night?" he asked finally, softly.

I felt my stomach twist and shook my head, trying to play it cool. "No, why?"

He gave his head a little shake. "Just wondering. Larry..." he paused, looking up at me. "Wherever life may take you, please know that I am always happy to be your friend. Yes? You're a good person, and I'm very honored to have worked with you."

The unexpected sentiment formed a lump in my throat. I nodded, forcing a smile, though I still wondered if he'd feel the same way if I ended up responsible for ruining his brother's marriage. "Thank you. I feel the same."

He smiled softly, patting my shoulder. "Shall we do dinner tonight, then?"

I considered the idea, then shook my head slowly. Having to spend any more time pretending that everything was all right seemed like agony. "I'm still a bit hungover, I'm going to head home and take it easy. But thank you."

"All right," he replied, stepping back. "The invitation stands if you change your mind. Always."

For a brief moment I wondered if he knew what was going on, if Ben had talked to him, told him something about the mess that was last night. But surely he wouldn't be so kind to me if I'd made his brother angry... right? It was best to stay uninvolved. If I screwed things up with Ben then Daniel would never forgive me... and if I lost Daniel, I'd probably lose John.

It was a sobering thought.

I took an early night when I finally got back to my apartment, just taking a few moments to clean up the beer cans left out from the night before. Then I let sleep claim me, just so I wouldn't have to think about anything anymore.

The next several days were, thankfully, busy, and for the most part I was able to push Ben to the back of my mind. I had interviews - though not so many as Daniel, thankfully - and Frank spent hours prepping me for them, going over things I might be asked and making sure I wasn't going to completely embarrass myself. I was greatful for it.

"I've got a couple of things lined up for you and John in the next couple of weeks, but things will probably remain fairly quiet for you until the show finishes airing. Have you thought about what you're going to do with your winnings?"

I hesitated, then shook my head. "I have a guy that handles my finances, I'll probably do some short term investing while I see where things go. I'd really like to buy an apartment, but if I end up doing a lot of work internationally I might hold off... maybe downsize, take over John's studio apartment. I don't know yet."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "You think he'll be moving?"

I gave a soft laugh, thinking about John and Daniel with bittersweet fondness. "He's already moved."

"And I presume this is why the sudden interest in traveling?" he asked lightly, though I could hear the concern behind it.

I gave a soft, mirthless laugh and a shrug. "Maybe. We all have to grow up sometime I guess. I'm happy for him. There's just some things going on...."

Frank nodded. "Well, the agency will have you as long as you'll stay, Larry. If there's anything I can help with...."

"I wish you could," I replied, and gave him a wry smile. "Thanks, Frank."

***

A week after the contest finished I was woken up by the buzzing of my cell phone on my bedside table, and I groped for it blindly, focusing on my bedside clock and groaning. Phone calls at nearly three in the morning were generally beyond my mental capacity, but when I saw the name on the caller display I forced myself to wake up. “Ben?”

His voice on the other end was low, the kind of hushed tone someone only manages to achieve when they know they should be quiet and are failing miserably. “Larry? Are you here?”

“What?” My brain tried to replay the words in hopes that they’d make more sense. “Where?”

“Yes. Are you?”

I gave a soft groan despite myself, fumbling for the switch my bedside lamp. “Am I what?”

“Are you here? I didn’t want to knock because I thought it might be too loud for your neighbors and then I thought you might have gone out so I’m just phoning. I need to talk to you.”

Something re-ordered itself in my mind into a bit of sense. “… are you outside my apartment?”

“Yeah, are you?”

I kicked off the covers and groped around for a t-shirt. “Yeah. Stay there. Be out in a sec.” I clicked off my phone and pulled the shirt over my head. The brightness of the hall light left me half blind, and I realized that I’d put the shirt on inside out, but couldn’t care enough to fix it. Stifling a yawn, I opened the door to find Ben, looking a little haggard and more than a little intoxicated. “Hey… you all right?”

For a moment Ben stood still, regarding me. Then he gave a sniff and a little shake of his head. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry to bother you. Just thought I probably shouldn’t be driving. Can I come in?”

I nodded and held open the door, stifling a yawn as he came in. “Why didn’t you just grab a cab home? Amy must be worried.”

“She told me not to come home,” he said. “I told her about us.”

I locked the door, turning to look as I felt my stomach sink in dread. “About us? Ben, nothing happened.”

Ben gave a non committal shrug, holding onto the wall as he toed off his shoes. “I told her I kissed you and she got all pissed off and asked me what I wanted and if I even knew what I wanted and then it was that I needed to figure out what I wanted and not to come back if I didn’t know. Maybe not in that order. I don’t care. I’m done.”

He’d begun to stumble backwards towards my living room, and I followed, catching his arm to steady him as he half tripped over his feet. “Let me guess, you’ve been drinking ever since?”

Ben let himself lean back against the wall, looking up at me. “That’s what guys are supposed to do when their impending wedding falls apart, isn’t it?”

“Then why don’t you call her? You don’t need me to tell you that, Ben. Just call her up and apologize. Tell her it was a mistake and it meant nothing and that you love her and want her. Simple as that.”

“It didn’t mean nothing,” Ben replied, voice suddenly sober as he looked up at me. “She wasn’t why I was drinking.”

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore my pulse pounding in my ears. “You can still apologize – “

“I know what I want.” Ben’s gaze was surprisingly steady as he smoothed his hands up to rest on my shoulders. “She asked me if I knew what I wanted. I want to be here, Lar. I want you.”

“Ben – “ I drew a sharp breath even as Ben’s lips found my own, and I attempted to draw back only to have him follow me, backing me into the wall. He was insistent even as I tried to reply, as if attempting to silence me with kisses. “Stop – you don’t want this – Ben – “

“I do,” he murmured back between kisses. “I want you. I know I want you.”

“Ben!” I managed to push him away, hands braced on his chest. “Stop it. Listen to me. I’m just some guy, all right? You just have cold feet. You have a beautiful, wonderful girl and it’s not worth fucking things up with her just to answer the what ifs that are going through your head right now. So I’m going to call you a cab and you’re going to go home and make up with Amy and we’ll both pretend this never happened, all right?”

For a long moment Ben just looked back at me, searching my gaze. Then he wet his lips, slipping his hands back up to rest on my shoulders. “You’re right. I’ve got cold feet. Fuck, I’m scared as hell. But it’s not about marrying her, it’s about losing you.”

A soft, helpless moan escaped my throat despite myself. “Ben, don’t say that.…”

Ben gave a little shake of his head. “Larry, I feel - I feel so intensely when I'm with you, I feel so alive, so... right. I can't go through life knowing that I'll never feel that way again. I missed you so bad this week.... " He leaned in again to press his lips to the skin just below my ear, voice low, and I couldn’t make myself pull away a second time. “Tell me you don’t feel the same way. Just tell me you don’t want this and I’ll go.”

“That’s completely unfair for you to ask of me,” I breathed, and brought my lips to his to return his kiss.

Ben gave a soft moan against my lips, hands slipping up to tangle in my hair. “Thank god,” he murmured, and kissed me again, tongue flicking past my lips. I didn’t hold back this time, hands smoothing down his back to pull him closer as I yielded to the press of his lips, letting him claim me and tasting liquor and heat on his lips in return. He yielded with a soft whimper as I licked into his mouth, tongue moving against his, needing to be closer, needing more. His breath was gasped against my lips between kisses, and he groaned when I slipped my hands down to cup his ass, hips arching against mine. “Oh god, Lar….”

“You really sure about this?” I managed to breathe, part of me wanting him to say no, to take control of this. Instead I tilted my head back the press of his mouth, his lips hot on my jaw, nipping at my neck.

“Been thinking about this so much,” he breathed, slipping one hand up the back of my t-shirt to stroke along my spine. “Can’t even begin to tell you….”

It didn’t really answer my question, but between the press of his lips and the insistent rock of his hips I was very quickly losing the ability to question anything at all. I could feel his erection through his jeans and the thin cotton of my boxers, pressed hard against my thigh, and I felt almost achingly hard myself, warm shocks of pleasure shuddering up my spine from the grind of his hips. “Ben….”

“Come to bed with me,” he breathed, nipping at my earlobe. “Please, Larry… need you.”

“God, I’m going to hell,” I murmured, to which Ben simply laughed, catching my hand as he stepped back and tugging me towards my own bedroom.

With the inevitable accepted I finally let myself do as I wished, pulling him close at the side of my bed, kissing him breathless as I tugged at the buttons of his shirt to stroke my hands over the bare skin underneath. Ben seemed to come alive at the display of my desire, returning my kisses with just as much hunger. He pulled my t-shirt up over my head and his lips found my neck again, teeth grazing my skin as he kissed down it hungrily, nipping at my collarbone, hands stroking over my chest.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I breathed, tilting my head back for him, tugging his shirt off to stroke my hands hungrily over well-muscled shoulders. “Oh god, Ben, you make me so goddamn hard....”

“Fuck…” the word was a soft groan against my skin, almost helpless, and he pulled back to look at me, lips pink from our kisses, pupils blown wide in the dim light of the room. “Lar… tell me what you want from me?”

Everything, I wanted to say, but instead leaned in to kiss him softly, stroking a hand slowly down his stomach to tug his belt undone, trying my best to remain unthreatening. “Just want to be close to you,” I murmured, nuzzling his jaw to press a soft kiss just under his ear. “Don’t need to rush anything. Just come stretch out with me and we’ll play it by ear, okay?”

“… yeah,” he replied after a moment, hands moving to help me tug down his jeans, and I drew him down into bed with me. For a moment he seemed almost hesitant, gaze moving over my bare chest, over my boxer clad hips. Then he followed the path with a hand, fingers trailing over my skin, brushing a nipple and tracing the lines of my abs before stroking over the waistband of my shorts to trace down the length of my cock where it strained against the fabric.

I choked back a groan, arching a little under the touch, trying to hold back as much as my body screamed for more. “Not gonna stop you,” I breathed, “Just don’t feel like you have to – “

“Hush,” he murmured, leaning in to catch my mouth again as his fingers curled around my cock through my boxers, squeezing gently.

“Jesus Christ…” I was pulling him closer before I could stop myself, tugging down his shorts to free his erection, hands clenching at his ass to urge him against me. Ben gave a little helpless groan into my mouth, yanking my boxers off as well before pinning me on my back, hips grinding against me. The feel of his skin against mine was intoxicating, his cock pressed hard against my stomach, sliding against my own, and I arched up against him, fingers almost kneading his ass. I couldn’t get enough of him, of the taste of his kisses and the touch of his skin, and I wrapped my thighs loosely around his waist, trying to squirm closer to him. Everything I'd imagined, all my thoughts of this - of him - were nothing compared to the need and desire and adoration I felt now, how much I wanted this, needed him.

“Feels so fucking good,” he gasped, giving another hard thrust against me, breath shuddering against my mouth. “Oh god, Lar…”

I let myself grind back up against him, pleasure and desire building with each rock of our hips. “Let me stroke you off. Want to feel you...."

He gave a soft murmur in agreement, shifting to press up against my side. He stroked one hand over my cheek and up into my hair as he kissed me, down the back of my neck and along my spine, hands strong and warm and possessive, and in that moment I wanted to believe everything he'd said, wanted to forget about girlfriends and all the reasons why we shouldn't do this. I tugged his boxers down more, cupping his sack, stroking gently, groaning against his mouth to echo the soft cry of pleasure he made as he rocked up into my touch. Finally I let myself cup his erection, let my fingers take in velvet skin and hardness beneath, thumb slicking through a bead of precome at the head of his cock, rubbing it into his skin. Ben's fingers clenched at my back, breath coming faster, hips canting just a little as I began to stroke my fingers up and down his shaft. "Oh fuck. Oh god, Larry...."

"Shhh," I murmured, and kissed him, drawing a sharp breath as his hand slipped down to return the touch, fingers working my cock, keeping time with my own affections, and I had to bite my lip to keep from coming immediately like a nervous teenager. I let my forehead press to his, trying to keep my breath even, arching up into his touch despite my attempts at restraint. "You have no idea how badly I've wanted this." The words came spilling out before I could stop them, but I couldn't censor them. Not now. "God, since the moment I saw you, Ben. So gorgeous...."

He kissed me, hard, giving a sharp, hard laugh against my mouth. "Me too," he said, voice throaty and intense, going straight to my cock.

I pulled away just enough to grab lube from my bedside table, pouring some on my palm and shifting my hips to bring our cocks together, stroking slick over them both. Ben gave a little groan, throaty and completely wanton, shifting to stroke with me, fingers curling around mine, rocking up against me to let his cock slide slick against my own. It was too good, too fast, and I pressed my face to his hair, jaw clenched against the shuddering build of pleasure. Ben pressed his face to the crook of my neck, and I could feel his breath stutter, feel him tense against me, fingers urging mine to stroke a little more quickly. "Larry," he gasped, choking back a cry, and I felt him pulse in my fingers and come, free hand digging into my back almost painfully. It only took me moments to follow, eyes clenched tight, crying out against his hair and losing myself completely for a few moments of bliss.

I half expected Ben to pull away in the aftermath of pleasure, but he pressed closer, breath hot against my skin. "I adore you," he murmured, voice catching on the words, and I felt a shiver of helplessness and joy run through me.

"I do too," I admitted, and claimed his mouth with my own.

After we made halfhearted attempt at cleaning up Ben passed out hard, curled up around me, face nestled against the crook of my neck. I tried to lose myself to the lazy tiredness of post orgasmic bliss, but couldn't stop my mind from going over and over what had happened. Ben, dead drunk and wanton, in my bed. And that was a scenario I'd seen and experienced far too often before, seen too many bi-curious straight men turn cold in the light of day. Is that what would happen tomorrow? God, what the hell had I done?

My phone buzzed sometime around four am, waking me from a fitful doze. Seeing Becker's number, I carefully extracted myself from Ben's embrace and slipped out into the hall, speaking low. "Hey, what's up?"

"Thank god you're awake. We need you at the airport in an hour, we have a six-thirty flight to Venice."

"Venice? For the show?"

"No, because Lester has a job and he needs more than one model so it isn't completely obvious that we're fucking. You were the first choice. Great pay and all expenses covered. We've already cleared it with Bumstead, if you're game."

I glanced towards my bedroom door, emotions in turmoil. "Hils, I don't know...."

"Don't be daft. Pack the essentials and come meet me, we'll go shopping for everything else. Shopping in Venice, Lar. A few weeks vacation with nothing to worry about other than what kind of drink you're going to order next. You know it's just what you need to get over that guy."

A few weeks. I could just remove myself from the picture completely, and give Ben time to sort out whatever the hell things were and fix things with Amy. "Yeah, you're right. I'll see you there in an hour."

"Perfect. See you soon, lover."

I clicked off my phone and slipped into my room, moving silently so as not to wake Ben as I threw some clothes and effects into a suitcase. I took a quick shower and dressed, calling a cab, and left my spare keys on the kitchen table with a note.

_Ben,_  
Had a job come up unexpectedly, had to run and catch a flight.  
Sorry to run off without saying goodbye.  
\- Larry 

I stared at it for a moment, agonizing over my words. There was so much I wanted to say. Go back to Amy. Don't fuck your life up over me. I love you. In the end I just left it as is.

Before heading out the front door I went back to my bedroom, perching on the edge of the bed and reaching out ever so carefully to stroke the sex-tousled mess of Ben's hair. "Sorry," I murmured again, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple, indulging for just a moment in the scent of his skin and the illusion that I could have everything I wanted. "I don't want you to hate me," I whispered, closing my eyes. "...I'm so in love with you."

Then I turned and left without allowing another backward glance.

I was halfway to the airport when my phone rang. I felt a wave of trepidation as I glanced at the caller ID, then answered. “John? Why are you up so early?”

“There’s a wet dog surrounded by bits of broken vase in my living room and a very angry cat under my bed,” he replied with a touch of annoyance. “That, and Daniel’s worried about his brother. He left Sasha here yesterday afternoon and hasn’t come back for her. Don’t suppose he’s with you?”

For a moment I froze, staring out the window at the oncoming cars as they whizzed by. “No,” I said finally, “He’s not with me. But he’s back at my apartment.”

“And why is he at your apartment without you? Lar, what have you done?”

“I’m on my way to Italy,” I replied, ignoring his second question. “I gotta go. Tell Daniel to take care of him for me, okay?” Then, ignoring my friend’s jumble of questions, I ended the call and turned off my phone.

***

 

I spent my first few days in Venice alternately drunk and buried in work, with Becker encouraging the whole thing. Perhaps I shouldn't have let him, but I hadn't told him about my last night with Ben, and I really just needed to forget.

Almost a week into the trip I received the phone call I’d really been dreading. I watched John’s name flash on the call display as the phone buzzed on my hotel room desk, my hand hovering over the phone, trying to will myself to stop being such a pussy and just pick it up.

When the call went to voice mail there was silence for a moment. Then a text message buzzed through. ‘ _You owe me, you ass. Call me._ ’

He was right. I sat down at the desk with a sigh, hesitating only a moment before picking up the receiver and dialing through internationally, listening to it ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Larry. Sorry I didn’t pick up, they updated my SIM for Europe but roaming’s a bitch out here. Figured I’d let Lester foot the phone bill.”

I knew John would probably see through my bullshit, but he didn’t comment on it if you did. “Frank says you’re still in Italy.”

“Venice, actually.” I moved to sit on the window ledge, looking down at the canal that ran along the hotel. “You should be here, John. It’s beautiful.”

“I’m happy enough back here in New York,” he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice. It made my stomach twist with an unexpected surge of jealousy. “We’ll get to Venice eventually. How long’s the shoot?”

“Not sure about that yet. It seems I’m here as a beard for Lester and Becker as much as anything else. Three, maybe four more weeks. At least three, he’s got us doing a private runway show in three weeks.”

“I see.” John was silent for a long moment, and I steeled myself for what I knew must be his real reason for calling. “So you’ll be ignoring his phone calls for at least the next three weeks, then?”

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the window frame with a soft thunk. John, not hearing any reply, continued. “So? What the hell, Larry. You don’t sleep with a guy and then ignore his calls. I know you, you’re not that douchebag. What the hell is going on with you?”

“We didn’t sleep together,” I said softly, and John snorted.

“When you have a straight man in your bed and there’s orgasms involved then yeah, you’re sleeping together. Don’t bullshit me, Larry. Just tell me what’s going on. I thought you were crazy about this guy?”

“I am,” I said softly, feeling my stomach twist at the admission. “I’ve got it so bad for him, John. And that’s why I can’t let this go any further. Look… just tell him I’m sorry, tell Daniel I’m sorry… just tell him to go back to his fiancée and forget about me.”

John was silent for a long moment. “Well, you know I won’t do that so I’m not sure why you asked.”

“Because he wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to tell him,” I replied, mind returning unbidden to the memories of that night, which I’d tried very hard to put out of my mind. ‘ _I want you. I know I want you._ ’ “Maybe he’ll listen to you, maybe he’ll listen to Daniel. I don’t know. John, we’ve both seen this before with bi-curious straight men. He just thinks he wants me. When the reality of the situation sets in he’ll regret it, and by then it’ll be too late for him and Amy. Just… just tell him I’m an asshole and he should forget about me.”

“You should be the one telling him this,” John replied, voice soft and serious.

“He’ll know that I’m lying,” I replied helplessly. “John….”

“Your GQ just hit the shelves,” John said suddenly. “Daniel bought eight copies, one for you too. You should make sure to tell your mother. Frank’s got the cover up at the agency, too.”

Despite the agony of my love life, I felt a soft rush of pride at the thought. “It should be you up there, you know.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I rather think that I ended up with something much better than a magazine cover,” he replied, and again I had to try to not feel jealous. “Daniel and I will get there again, I have no doubt of that. I don’t regret my choice for a moment. So… maybe just take this time away to think things through? Just make sure you’re really making the right choice, you know?”

“I’m hoping he’ll have forgotten about me and be back with Amy by the time I’m back,” I replied, and John gave a soft laugh on the other end.

“Lar, we’re on a billboard above Times Square. The finale just aired, so there’s still ads for the show everywhere, and half the TV stations are already showing reruns. He’s not going to just forget about you. And regardless of how many hot Italian guys you fuck in Venice you know you’re not going to forget about him either.”

“I’m going to damn well try,” I replied, frowning at his words. “And I haven’t fucked anyone here yet.”

“See? You can’t even set him aside long enough for a one night stand, can you? Larry, I know you. You know that I wouldn’t bullshit you about something like this. You have a good thing going and I don’t want to see you fuck it up and spend the rest of your life regretting it. You’ve been happier these past few months than I’ve ever seen you. This guy’s even better for you than I am. Don’t throw that away just because you’re too scared to take him at his word.”

I wanted so badly for him to be right about everything. “John, I want to believe what you’re saying, I just….”

“Just tell me you’ll think about it, okay? And for god sakes, send him an email or something so he’ll stop asking me about you. I'll text you his email address. Don’t make any decisions. Just take some time to think. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed, stepping back into the room and shutting the window. “I’ll think things through.”

“Good.” John’s voice softened. “You know I’m here for you, right? Anytime you need me you can call me. I love you. Even if this all goes south you’re still my best friend.”

“I know,” I replied, feeling unexpectedly relieved at his words, and a little guilty that I hadn’t talked to him before. “I love you too, John.”

“Good,” he replied. “Now go be sexy for those cameras. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Take care,” I agreed, smiling as we ended the call.

~~~

I let myself slow down for the next few days, spending my days touring the city, quietly taking in the sights and letting the sheer majesty and romanticism of Venice start to calm the turmoil inside me. I couldn't help but admit that John had been right. Running hadn't, and wouldn't help anything.

More than anything, I wished that Ben was by my side.

Finally I sat down in the hotel's business center, staring at the blank screen and trying to figure out how to compose the email I promised John I'd send. I wanted to say everything and nothing all at once, spill my heart out and tell him how much I missed him, tell him to forget about everything and go back to Amy. Ben had tried to call me several times, but there were no text messages or emails, so I had no idea how angry he was with me.

_'I'm sorry I left,_ ' I wrote finally. _'I didn't want to hurt you. Things were moving so fast and I was afraid you'd wake up sober and hate me for what we'd done. I like you and I want you to be sure, really sure that this is what you want, not just caught up in the moment. So I think we both need some time to cool off and think about things. Forgive me._ '

Then, before I could question myself, I hit send.

If nothing else, the email ended up being a little cathartic to me, finally allowing me to stop worrying so much. The hotel helped me find a couple of really beautiful routes to run in the mornings, and I spent less time drinking and more time enjoying the sun and the city. Things would be fine when I got home, I told myself. Ben would sort things out with Amy, and we could go running together and see each other at Daniel's from time to time like we had before. I tried to ignore the pang of sadness that the thought of this future brought, the idea of never having him in my arms again. It was better than not having him at all.


	4. Chapter 4

New York was chilly when I returned, and I stared out the window at the city beyond the terminal as we taxied in off the runway in the afternoon sun with a sense of melancholy. Venice had been a utopia away from the real world. I'd have to face the music now, sooner or later. Lester had taken Becker off to London for a bit, so I was traveling alone, and I took my time getting through customs, suddenly dreading going home to an empty apartment. I'd just reached the luggage carousel when I heard a familiar voice behind me. 

"And here I thought gingers couldn't tan."

I turned to find John grinning at me, Daniel a few feet behind with my suitcase. I laughed and pulled him into a welcome hug. "How the hell are you here?"

"Frank spilled your arrival time," John replied, squeezing my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my hair before stepping back. "You look good, Lar."

"Thanks." I moved forward to hold out a hand to Daniel, only to have him give me a little teasing frown of disapproval before enfolding me in a tight hug as well.

"It's been very lonely at the workshop without you," he said, pressing another kiss to my cheek. "I'm happy you're home."

"I've missed being there," I replied, realizing that it was true. "And I definitely missed you guys. Don't tell me you cabbed out here to meet me?"

"Are you kidding?" John gave a laugh. "We drove. Daniel's been taking every chance to show off his pretty new wheels."

"Oh right! I forgot about your prizes." I grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to his hair. "Lucky bastard. Just hang on guys, I have one more bag on the carousel. Had to buy an extra duffel to fit everything. I brought you back the most beautiful bolt of raw grey silk suiting to play with, Daniel."

"What did you bring for me?" John followed me, grinning and slipping an arm around my waist.

"Besides the silk, which I'm sure you'll end up wearing? Booze."

"Awesome!"

I found the rest of my luggage without trouble, following them back to the parkade and a shiny new SUV in a rich indigo blue. "Oooh. I love the colour."

Daniel looked back at me a little anxiously. "You don't think it's too flamboyant?"

"Only a tiny bit," I assured him, helping John load up my luggage. "It's perfect for you, sweetheart." I paused by the driver's side door before getting in the car, watching Daniel as I tried to find the words. "Daniel...."

He gave me a soft smile. "Is everything all right?"

"I just... I mean, I was wondering..." I stopped, letting my breath out in a sigh. "How's Ben?"

Daniel's mouth twisted slightly. "He is... all right. He has not been over much... I think perhaps he is working things out in his romantic life."

"Oh," I replied, feeling my heart sink. But that was what I wanted, wasn't it? For Ben to settle things with Amy? "Thank you, it's... good to know."

Daniel gave a little nod, patting my shoulder and then getting into the car without another word.

"Oh hey," John said as we were leaving the airport, as if just remembering something. "We have dinner reservations at Chianti's in two hours."

I'd been lounging across Daniel's backseat, ready to pass out for the drive home, and opened my eyes. "Dinner? Oh god. I mean, it's really sweet of you but I'm so goddamn jet-lagged...."

John turned around from the passenger's seat to give me a Look. "You took off without notice and you've been gone for a month. You're coming to dinner. Plus, you owe me."

"Jesus Christ, you're going to milk that for all it's worth, aren't you?"

"All twenty five thousand dollars and a spread in GQ's worth, lover." John's grin was wide and decidedly devious.

"All right, dinner," I conceded. "But I'm going home and sleeping afterwards."

"Whatever you like," John replied. "We'll drop you off so you can take your stuff in and change and shower or whatever. Daniel has a meeting with a client but we should be done in plenty of time."

"I might fall asleep in the shower," I warned him, but John just laughed.

"I still have a key to your apartment, remember? And I have no qualms about coming in and hauling you out of the shower."

"All wet and naked? You might not have any qualms but I think your boyfriend might have something to say about it."

"Sometimes certain things are necessary," Daniel remarked, intentional calm hiding a hint of mirth. He turned onto the street to my apartment building. "We will call you when we're back."

I took my time in the shower upon my return, letting the hot water cascade over me, calm me, make me feel a bit more human. Then I dressed, keeping things low key but smart, and started sorting out my laundry from my suitcase and unpacking. I didn't hear from John and Daniel, and was considering saying fuck it and going to bed when my phone finally rang. "Hey John."

"Hey. Sorry the meeting ran a bit late, we should be there in five. Wanna meet us out front?"

"Sure. I'll be down in a minute."

I grabbed a jacket out of my closet and headed down, standing on the street and missing Venice already. November in New York was starting to get chilly, and I was happy to jump in the back when Daniel's SUV finally pulled up.

"I'm not sure how parking's going to be," John said as we approached the restaurant. "Can you go in and save the reservation while we park? It's under Murdoch."

"Yeah, sure." I smiled as Daniel stopped in front of the restaurant, opening the door and hopping out. "See you in a few."

"See you," John replied, a strange little smile on his face as they drove off to look for street parking.

I watched after the car for a moment, confused, then shrugged it off and headed inside, smiling at the matre'd. "Reservation under Murdoch."

"Of course, right this way." The restaurant was a quaint little deal with multiple levels and tables hidden everywhere, comfortable and intimate. I followed the matre'd around a dividing wall to find a little corner table for two, one plate occupied by a single long stem white rose, and the other....

Ben looked up at me from the table, giving a little hesitant smile. "... hey."

"Oh," I managed to reply, heart pounding painfully in my chest.

"Your server will be with you shortly, gentlemen," the matre'd said, and left.

I looked at the martini Ben had been sipping and again at the rose in front of the empty chair. "Oh," I said again, trying to remember to breathe. "They're... not coming back, are they?"

"No," Ben replied, lips pursing slightly as he looked back down at his drink, silent for a long moment. "Can I at least buy you a drink before you take off?"

I sunk down into the other chair a little weakly. "... you wanted to talk to me that badly?"

"I did. We.... weren't sure if you'd agree to come if you knew I was going to be here...."

"We? Oh, of course. You're in cohorts with your brother and my best friend."

"They seem to think we should work things out," Ben replied slowly, looking up at me. "I just... wanted to apologize."

I felt my stomach flip. "Apologize?"

"Can I start you out with anything to drink?" The server appeared at our table at the most inopportune time, and I sat back in my chair with a soft sigh.

"Please give us a few moments," I said, lacing my fingers together in my lap just to find something to ground me. I turned my attention back to Ben. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Ben."

"No. No, I do. I've handled this whole thing really stupidly. I should have worked things out with Amy a long time ago and I never should have come to you drunk. I'm sorry."

Of course. White roses were for friendship, right? I gave him a weak smile. "I honestly would have liked to skip this part and just gone back to being friends."

The little bit of hope I'd seen in Ben's face bled out immediately. "So that's really all you want from me, then."

"It's what's best," I said, letting out a long breath.

"I'm not asking what's best," Ben replied, voice lowering. "I'm asking what you want, Larry."

I gave a sharp, helpless laugh. "Why? What's done is done. You're back with Amy and I just have to hope she'll let me see you once and a while."

Ben's eyebrows knit together. " _What?_ "

"I hate to break it to you, but wives generally aren't too happy with their men continuing to see someone they've had an affair with, regardless of gender."

"Larry. Look." He held out both his hands to me, fingers splayed and palms down, and it took me a moment to realize what I was supposed to be seeing. Or rather, not seeing. The simple silver band he'd worn on his wedding finger for as long as I'd known him was gone, the hint of a tan line the only proof that it had ever been there. "I'm not with Amy. I haven't been with Amy since before you left for Venice."

I felt my heart pound faster. "But... Daniel said...."

Ben's eyebrows knit in confusion. "Daniel said I was still with Amy?"

"Well, no..." I thought back on the conversation. "He said you hadn't been around because you'd been working things out in your romantic life."

"Yeah. But not with Amy." Ben looked away with a soft laugh, suddenly a little shy and a little more uncomfortable. "When you left... I ended up back at Daniel's. I finally told him everything that had been going on instead of just the bits I'd wanted him to know and he told me I was an idiot and that I couldn't possibly expect you to believe anything I said if I was drunk every time I kissed you. Then he and John gave me a chunk of advice that I really hope proves to have been good, and that's what I've been doing with myself while you've been gone."

I closed my eyes slowly and resisted the urge to rub them. "Ben... I've just gotten off a sixteen hour flight. Please just dumb this down for me."

“I’ve been… dating,” he said slowly, eyebrows knitting together a little. "I've been letting John set me up on casual dates."

I stared at him. "You've been dating... men? God, you've been letting _John_ set you up with _men_?"

“Yes. I mean, I haven’t actually had sex with anyone, but John said that being virginal is really only attractive if you’re a little twink, so….”

I chuckled softly, still trying to take everything in. “He’s not wrong, really. So you’ve been fooling around a bit?”

Ben hesitated, then nodded slowly, looking a bit sheepish. “He... said I should make sure that my libido was going to cooperate with the rest of me.”

“And that it would help convince me that you were really ready to switch sides?”

He looked even more sheepish and nodded. “It seemed kind of weird but I know you trust John, so….”

“We’ve been looking out for each other for a while,” I replied softly, watching him. “He’s kind of like my Daniel. He thinks we’re good for each other, I guess.”

“Aren’t we?” Ben asked, looking up at me again. “Larry….”

I have a soft sigh, finally picking up the rose and turning it over in my hands, pressing my thumb to a blunted thorn and feeling the hardness press into my skin. “Please don’t think I don’t want you,” I said quietly, watching him. “I just don’t want to see you do something you’re going to regret later, Ben. This is a pretty big lifestyle change.”

Ben gave a slow nod. “I get what you’re saying. I just… I’ve spent my entire life doing what I thought I ought to do,” he said, lacing his fingers together over the plate. “Being sensible. I gave up the guitar and became a cop, found a nice girl….” He searched my gaze with his own, blue eyes intent, as if silently begging me to understand. “I don’t want to live a farce anymore. I need to let my heart guide me. And I know this isn’t some movie or a promise of happily ever after but can we at least give this a try? That night we were together... I thought everything felt so right....”

I let out a long breath, then reached a hand out across the table in offering, palm up. I could feel his hand tremble as it slipped into mine, and I gave a reassuring squeeze. “I want to be with you,” I said softly, watching him. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Ben.”

He gave a little helpless shrug, looking down at our joined hands. “I know. But I’ve fallen in love with you.”

I tightened my grip on his hand, my heart stopping completely at his words

"I'm sorry." Ben lowered his head, not letting go of my hand. "I know that's another rule - "

" _No._ " The word was harsh when it escaped my lips, everything spilling out at once. "Fuck the rules. It's amazing, it's - it's incredible, and christ, I've been such a fucking _ass_ \- oh god, Ben, I'm so sorry...." My voice broke on the last words, and Ben looked up at me almost wonderingly, reaching a hand out a little tentatively to touch my jaw. I leaned into the touch, feeling a shudder run through me, watching his lips part.

"... you do want this, don't you?"

"I wouldn't have run so hard if I didn't," I replied thickly, feeling overwhelmed and almost completely out of control. "I would have been in your pants when I met you if this didn't matter to me. I would have been - God, Ben. I haven't had sex in a month. I wouldn't still be here if I wasn't in love with you."

Ben let out a soft breath, looking almost as overwhelmed as I felt. "Can we... go somewhere more private?"

"Yeah." I grabbed a twenty from my wallet and left it on the table, certainly enough to cover his drink and the fact that we'd commandeered their table and left without eating. I pushed Ben's wallet back towards him, standing and offering my hand. "Let's go."

For a moment he hesitated, then took my hand and stood, fingers lacing with mine tightly and not letting go until we had to get into his car.

My apartment wasn't too far from the restaurant, and I let my hand rest over Ben's on the gearshift of his car as we drove, suddenly not wanting to be out of contact with him for a moment. "Have you been staying with Daniel, then?"

"I did for a couple of days, but it wasn't a very good idea. John's cat got really jealous every time Daniel paid attention to Sasha. Nothing like being woken up at three in the morning by a lab trying to hide from an angry cat. They don't mind taking care of her for me, she's there now, but we realized it couldn't be a full time solution for the sake of our sanity and the furniture. Now they just keep Amedea in Daniel's workspace when Sasha's over."

I winced. "Yeah, that might cause some trouble. So where are you now?"

"I've been staying in John's studio apartment for the time being," he replied, turning off onto my street. "It's close enough to ground level that it isn't a huge issue if I have to take Sasha outside in the middle of the night. I'll have to find something with an actual yard at some point, but it's good enough in the meantime."

I wet my lips, watching him as he pulled into the parkade underneath my building. "Must be pretty small for Sasha. Do you think it would be easier if you stayed at my place? I mean, it's fifth floor but the elevator's close by. All I'd have to do would be to throw an extra hundred on my security deposit. Or we'd have to smuggle her in and out in a suitcase. My spot's the third from the end there."

Ben finished pulling into the space before turning to look at me, fingers shifting to twine with mine. "You really want me to stay with you? Are you sure?"

I gave his hand a squeeze. "Yeah. I like being with you. I like the idea of having someone to come home to, and go for runs in the morning and everything like that. If it works we can find someplace together that's better for Sasha. If it doesn't work then you can find a place on your own."

"I'd like that," he replied, low and husky, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver of arousal down my spine.

"Good," I murmured, and reached for the door.

"Lar, wait."

I turned back to him, suddenly nervous that he was going to change his mind. Instead Ben reached out to cup my cheek gently, leaning close and bringing his mouth to mine. I gave a soft, surprised moan, lips parting to his eagerly, relishing in the caress of his lips, the adoration and surety I could feel in his kiss, the calm strength I'd begun to recognize as an essential part of this man. I stroked a hand up along his arm to cup the back of his shoulder, holding him closer and encouraging more, sucking on his bottom lip and grazing it with my teeth, my heart pounding almost painfully in my chest. Ben's fingers slipped up into my hair, curling through it, finally releasing my mouth with a soft sigh, forehead resting against mine.

"I love you," I whispered, and felt Ben draw a soft breath, fingers slipping down to stroke the back of my neck.

"I'm so in love with you," he replied, soft and husky. "Thank you for giving this a chance."

I couldn't keep from smiling, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, then pulling back. "Let's go inside, mister."

Ben chuckled softly, getting out, and I grabbed the white rose from the dashboard of his car, taking him into the elevators and up to my apartment. I set the rose down on my front entry table as I hung up both our coats and slipped out of my shoes, then grabbed it again. "I should put this in water... you want something to drink?"

"No..." he said slowly, following me into the kitchen. "I think I'm all right this time."

I turned to him with a soft laugh, filling a pint glass from my cupboard with water and putting the rose in it in interest of not having to hunt around for a vase. "I do believe you, you know. You don't have to stay sober if you don't want to. Thank you for this, by the way. It's really sweet of you."

Ben gave a little shrug, smiling, and stepped closer, slipping an arm around my waist and leaning in to press a kiss to my jaw. "I kind of just want to enjoy being with you."

I turned into him to return his embrace, nuzzling his hair and closing my eyes to the warmth of his body against mine, his free hand smoothing up my back. "You say the nicest things. I'm not used to it."

Ben's breath was warm against my neck, and he pressed another soft kiss under my ear. "Not used to people being sweet to you?"

"In this situation it's usually significantly more dirty," I replied with a soft laugh, giving in and starting to drop soft kisses to his earlobe and the edge of his jaw.

Ben pulled back to look up at me, a little concerned. "I can try and be more dirty if you like...."

I chuckled and shook my head, smoothing my fingers up into his hair. "There'll be plenty of time to play later. Just be yourself, Ben. I want this to be more than just sex. It's just been a while since I felt this way about anyone."

Ben smiled, leaning in to kiss me again, murmuring softly against my lips. "Then I'm honored."

The rush of desire that shivered down my spine from Ben's tenderness surprised me; I tended to avoid romantics as a rule, finding it tiresome when all I was looking for was a casual romp in the sack. But being here now, being invested in this, feeling so strongly for him made the sweetness of his warm, slow kisses and the touch of his fingers through my hair and over the back of my neck more erotic than I could have imagined. I gave a soft moan of pleasure against his mouth, pressing closer to him, smoothing my hands over his hips and up his sides, fingers splayed to touch as much of him as possible and feeling him shiver under my touch.

"I really want to go to bed with you," I breathed, and Ben gave a low moan in agreement, drawing back to look up at me, blue eyes intense and hungry in a way that made my breath catch in my throat.

"Yes. God yes. It's been all I've been able to think about since you left."

"Even on your dates?" I teased, slipping an arm around his waist and taking him into my bedroom.

"Especially then," he replied, giving a soft chuckle, nuzzling my hair as we walked. "Nothing felt like this. I mean, it wasn't bad... just wasn't like being with you."

"Flatterer," I said softly, and Ben gave another laugh, reaching up to catch my face in both hands for a hungry kiss, nipping at my bottom lip.

"It's true," he returned, pressing closer, fingers tangling in my hair, his voice a throaty murmur that sent shivers down my spine. "Nothing is as good as this."

I gave a breathless chuckle against his mouth. "Haven't seen anything yet, love." I returned his kisses just as hungrily, hands stroking over his hips, tugging his shirt from his jeans and pulling it up over his head so I could stroke my hands up his bare arms and over his chest uninterrupted. Ben gave a soft groan against my mouth, starting to work on my button down, kissing warmly along my jaw and down my neck as he pushed it off my shoulders.

"Missed the way you taste," he murmured, grazing the crook of my neck with his teeth before nipping gently, and I bit my lip on a moan.

"Ben... if we're going to do this, I need you to promise me something...."

He looked up worriedly, hands resting still on my chest. "Yeah?"

I grinned. "Surprise me in your uniform sometime."

Ben relaxed immediately, returning my grin as his fingers smoothed over my shoulders. "My uniform, hm? So that's what you like about me?"

"Don't be ridiculous." I leaned in to kiss him hungrily, battling with his lips and tongue as he returned the kiss just as demandingly. Then I started to kiss down his throat, tasting his skin, letting myself breathe deeply and believe that I really was here. "I love you because you're kind, fun to be with, a great friend, and you have a really hot body." I kissed down his chest to suck at one nipple, tugging on it with my teeth. "The uniform is just icing on the cake."

Ben drew a soft breath through his teeth, fingers tangling in my hair. "Then I will do my sworn duty to protect you."

"Good." I slipped to my knees, kissing his stomach as I pulled his belt open and his jeans undone, hands rubbing over his hipbones as I pulled his jeans down with his boxers to free his cock. "And I'll do my best to support my brave boy in blue," I told him, licking up the underside of his half-hard cock before sucking it into my mouth with a low groan.

"Oh fuck..." Ben's fingers slid through my hair, clenching briefly before releasing, stroking his hands down my neck and over my shoulders. "God, that feels good...."

I gave low moan in agreement around his cock, fingers curled around his hips and thumbs rubbing circles on his skin as I coaxed him to full hardness, reveling in the taste and feel of him in my mouth. It was still a little hard to believe that he and I were really here, and it was almost surreal to have him like this after thinking about it, wanting it for so long. I didn't hold back, taking his cock hungrily as I moved one hand to cup and caress his balls, anchoring myself with my free hand on one firm ass cheek. "You have a fucking amazing body," I breathed, pulling back to mouth at his balls, letting my breath tease against his skin. "And a gorgeous big cock. Oh fuck, you're perfect."

Ben choked back a moan, fingers clenching at my shoulders. "And you need to get in bed before you make me come all over your face."

"Mmm, I lied - I like the dirty too." I let myself lick up his cock one more time, sucking at the head before pulling away with a soft pop and crawling back onto my bed, pushing the covers aside.

Ben stepped out of his jeans and boxers, perching next to me on the bed and stroking a hand down to cup my erection through my jeans, eyes narrowing appreciatively. "Do I get to take these off?"

"Can do whatever you want to me," I breathed, arching off the bed as he undid my belt and jeans, helping him push them down so I could kick them off.

"Anything, hm?" Ben shifted to lay against me, claiming my mouth with possessive kisses, hips rocking against my slowly. "What if I want to cover every inch of you in whipped cream and lick you clean?"

I whimpered, stroking hands down to cup his ass and pull him closer to me. "With cherries on top?"

"If you're a good boy," Ben replied with a low chuckle, nuzzling down my neck to draw his tongue along my collarbone, nipping at the skin before moving to suck at one nipple. "Mmmm... delicious even without whipped cream...."

I drew a sharp breath as he moved to nuzzle the base of my erection, and I raised myself up on my elbows to watch him, his eyes falling half closed as he began to cover me in slow licks, beautiful lips parting over the head with a low moan. His fingers curled around the base of my cock to hold me in place, stroking me slowly as he swirled his tongue around the head of my cock. "Christ, Ben...."

Ben gave a low, approving moan, lips sliding down my shaft until the head of my cock hit the back of his throat. I bit my lip on a curse, fingers grabbing at the sheets as I tried not to thrust up into his mouth. "That's really fucking good...."

"Mmhmm?" Ben glanced up at me through his eyelashes as he took me again, working his tongue against me before pulling off with a soft pop, fingers still stroking me slowly. "Want me to make you come like this, love?"

I arched up into his touch, drawing a shivering breath. "I'd really like you to make love to me."

"Yeah?" Ben moved back up to claim my mouth, sucking on my bottom lip, voice low and throaty. "Want me to fuck you just like this, on your back?"

I managed a whimpered agreement, fumbling in my bedside table to find a bottle of lube only to have him take it from me. He pressed against my side and claimed my mouth in slow, deep kisses as he worked two slick fingers inside me, fucking me slowly, exploring until his fingertips brushed up against my sweet spot, pulling an embarrassingly needy moan from my throat. "God - !"

"More?" Ben was grinding against my hip slowly, breath hot on my skin as he licked along my jaw, twisting his fingers inside me again.

"Fuck yes more," I managed to breathe, trying to rock back against his fingers as he pressed another inside me, feeling almost desperate for sensation. "You sure you haven't done this before?"

"Not with a guy," Ben replied with a soft chuckle, nipping at my earlobe. "Definitely not Amy. Old girlfriend liked anal play. Not too hard to figure this out."

"Oh," I managed to breathe, biting my lip on a cry as he sent another shock of sensation up my spine. "Jesus Christ, Ben. Fuck me. God, please."

"Please," he murmured in reply, pulling away to kneel between my thighs and taking the condom I pressed into his hand. In moments he was rocking into me slowly, breath escaping in a low groan as the thick head of his cock pushed past the ring of muscle, stretching me open. I pressed my heels to the small of his back, hands clenching at his thighs, letting my eyes fall closed for a moment to savor the shivery ache of penetration.

"Oh god yes...." I tried to rock up against him, gasping for breath, not trying to hold back my moans of pleasure. "So big, perfect... oh god, more...."

Ben leaned closer to brush his lips against mine breathlessly, starting to rock a little harder inside me. "Fuck, Lar... feel so fucking good...."

"Better than a woman?" I managed to reply, choking back a gasp as the head of his cock brushed up against my sweet spot. "Christ, there - !"

He gave an answering moan in reply, repeating the motion, letting his head fall forward to rest on my shoulder. "Fuck yeah. Better than anything. Oh fuck, Lar - !"

I let my head fall back, hands clenching at his shoulders, rocking up into his thrusts as much as I could and for a moment just feeling, losing myself to the rock of our bodies and the sounds of his voice, his mouth on my skin. "Love you," he murmured, breath hot against my ear, and I tightened my arms around him.

"Perfect," I breathed, groaning as he rocked deeper into me. "Oh fuck, harder...!"

Ben nipped at the side of my neck, answering my request with a wordless groan, my cock hard and leaking between us, rubbing against his stomach. "Want me to stroke you off?"

"Mmm..." I turned my head to nip at his earlobe. "Yeah. Lay on your back so I can ride you, handsome."

"Hell yes..." He drew away carefully and settled back into the pillows, eyes not leaving me, dark and hungry and a little feral. "Come here."

It only took me a moment to straddle his hips, rocking down onto his cock with a low groan, bracing my hands on his shoulders as I started to ride him. "Oh fuck. We're never getting out of bed again."

Ben's hands smoothed up my thighs to grasp my hips, urging me down harder, matching my rhythm as he thrust up into me, our bodies coming together to send sparks up my spine. "Agreed," he breathed, one hand curling around my cock. "God, you're beautiful. Oh fuck...."

I moved harder on him, my thighs trembling, crying out with each thrust. The combination of sensation was too much and not enough all at once, and I never wanted it to stop. I leaned down to catch his mouth breathlessly. "Ben - !"

"Come on, love," he murmured against my mouth, free hand stroking down my back and over my ass, giving another hard thrust up into me and echoing my cry. "My love. Oh god, Lar...!"

I let my head fall to the pillow beside his, unable to hold back, rocking down hard onto him as my body shivered with orgasm, sparking white behind my eyes as I spilled in his fingers. Ben gave a little desperate sound, bucking up hard into me, fingers digging into my back as he came.

For a long moment I stayed half collapsed on top of him, gasping for breath, eyes closed and completely lost to everything but the aftermath of pleasure and the warmth of Ben's body against mine, his fingers smoothing down my back over and over. I felt almost light headed, mind replaying our lovemaking again and again, spinning into thoughts of Ben in my arms always and always.....

"You all right?" he murmured softly, kissing my hair, jarring me from my thoughts.

I straightened, trying to blink my eyes into focus and giving him a warm smile. "I'm amazing. Thank you. Wow."

Ben returned my smile adoringly, reaching up to cup my face, stroking my cheek with a thumb. "You must be exhausted. Lets get cleaned up and we can call it an early night?"

"Mmm," I agreed, easing away from him and stretching out against his side. "I'll get up in a minute."

Ben chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead, and I didn't realize he'd moved until I felt a warm washcloth on my chest, gently wiping me down. Then he curled around me and tugged the blankets over us, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

"Sorry..." I mumbled, tilting my face up for another soft kiss.

"Don't worry... my poor jet-lagged love." Ben's voice was low and warm and I let it curl around me, leaving me feel warm and unexpectedly cherished. He nuzzled my cheek, pressing a kiss to my temple. "We can talk more in the morning."

"Mmmhmm," I replied, nestling my face against his chest and already thinking about waking up decadently naked with him.

Ben was silent for a long moment, and I'd almost drifted off to sleep again when he spoke, voice soft. "You will be here in the morning, won't you?"

I opened my eyes and lifted my face to kiss him softly, finding his hand and moving it to press to my chest. "Long as this is still beating. I promise."

Ben's fingers twined with mine, squeezing tightly, and in that moment, I was completely sure that this would be forever.

**end**


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